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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304786">I’ll Follow Where the Heart Sings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartsfrogchoir/pseuds/hogwartsfrogchoir'>hogwartsfrogchoir</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anxious Stiles Stilinski, Aromantic Kira Yukimura, Cherry Magic AU, Concerned Derek Hale, DC Comics References, Elevators, Gay yearning, Happy Derek Hale, Injured Stiles Stilinski, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Misunderstandings, Nervous Stiles Stilinski, Pining Derek Hale, Popular Derek Hale, Shy Stiles Stilinski, Sick Stiles Stilinski, Slice of Life, Virgin Stiles Stilinski, Workplace Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:54:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>40,775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogwartsfrogchoir/pseuds/hogwartsfrogchoir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirty year-old virgin Stiles Stilinski gains the ability to read the mind of anyone he touches. With this, he learns that his coworker, Derek Hale, secretly harbors strong feelings for him.</p><p>A Sterek Cherry Magic AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey &amp; Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey/Danny Mahealani, Liam Dunbar &amp; Derek Hale, Liam Dunbar &amp; Kira Yukimura, Liam Dunbar &amp; Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski &amp; Kira Yukimura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. First Cry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Spoken dialogue will be in quotations.<br/>Thoughts of POV character will be italicized.<br/>Thoughts that Stiles can hear will be in quotations and italicized.</p><p>I took a lot of liberties in regards to the commute experience and Metro/train schedule around the LA area.</p><p>The characters and premise of Teen Wolf were created by Jeff Davis and belong to MTV.</p><p>The plot for this story is heavily adapted from the TV drama Cherry Magic! 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!, which is owned by TV Tokyo and Square Enix. The drama is in turn adapted from a manga of the same name, created by Yuu Toyota.</p><p>None of this is mine. The only thing I would call my own is the desire to see this sweet, wholesome story applied to one of my favorite ships that led to me writing this.</p><p>Do not repost this work on other sites.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles Stilinski turns thirty and his world is turned upside-down.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilinski always thought that he led a fairly normal, average life. He was a normal young adult in his late twenties. He was raised by a normal single dad in a normal small town up north.</p><p>In short, Stiles never considered himself to be someone remarkable.</p><p>Or magical.</p><p>That was, at least, until his thirtieth birthday.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>At twenty-nine years and 364 days old, Stiles Stilinski could be found heading in for his data entry job at Nemeton, Inc., a stationery and office supply company. This basic, run-of-the-mill job gave Stiles the means to live his ordinary, unremarkable life in the City of Los Angeles, California.</p><p>Stiles would make the commute between his studio apartment in the suburbs to his workplace in the downtown area. He would clock in for a regular 8:30 am - 5 pm shift then head home, picking up dinner along the way. The next day, he’d do it all over again. This was his routine five days a week.</p><p>The day started out just as uneventful as any other. Stiles managed to reach the building lobby as a group of people were piling into an elevator. Once he stepped off on the correct level, Stiles took a quick detour for the records room to grab a file he knew he would need for the spreadsheet he was working on. He then headed straight for Nemeton’s office bullpen and made a beeline for his desk.</p><p>That is, until he tripped over virtually nothing and ate it right on the drab, gray office carpet.</p><p>Stiles managed to brace himself on the way down so thankfully he wasn’t injured, aside from an ache in his knee that may or may not bruise later. He noticed that the folder he was carrying landed a couple feet away and some loose sheets of paper had fallen out. As he scrambled over to collect his belongings, he could see a few of his coworkers looking over curiously.</p><p>This occurrence wasn’t too uncommon so Stiles’ coworkers mostly regarded him with mild concern in case he ended up suffering an actual injury. He could see a few heads in his periphery turned his way from the sales department across the room, craning their necks to make sure his fall was nothing serious. Though they might have just been distracted from their conversation since he could hear their newbie, Dunbar, chattering away about a sales pitch he was working on, most likely to Hale.</p><p>Stiles’ pride has taken a more or less permanent vacation from any worry at being labeled as the office klutz. He just wanted to clean up his mess as quick as he could, apologizing to anyone who passed him by for being in the way.</p><p>Luckily, Stiles came in early enough that he was able to set his things down and fix himself a cup of coffee. He had just settled into his chair and booted up his laptop when the rest of the office filed in. One of them was Greenberg, his deskmate and senior within their department. Stiles could hear the scrape of the guy’s office chair against the floor, using way too much force to push himself across their shared aisle. The man promptly collided with Stiles’ desk, causing his desk drawers to rattle.</p><p>“Yooooo, Stilinski,” Greenberg drawled.</p><p>Greenberg was a human man who had been with Nemeton for just a bit longer than Stiles which was quite a feat given that the guy tended to both overshare and ask pretty invasive questions. He also regularly stepped in it with just about anyone in their office by stating things a little too bluntly. Still, Stiles would like to think they had a pretty good working relationship, given that the guy frequently pushed some of his workload on him. It was mostly busy work that Stiles didn’t mind doing so he wasn’t too bothered when the occasion arose.</p><p>Stiles shifted his focus from his cup of coffee, fruit &amp; nut bar, and e-mail inbox somewhat warily toward his coworker as Greenberg continued, “Is it true that you’ve never dated anyone before?”</p><p>Stiles froze while his brain was going a mile a minute. He briefly wondered how Greenberg got a hold of this information and how he even came up as the topic of water cooler gossip in the first place. He fidgeted uncomfortably under the other man’s gaze.</p><p>“Uhh… where is this coming from exactly?” Stiles asked warily.</p><p>“Come on!” Greenberg insisted while nudging Stiles’ shoulder with his own, apparently not sensing Stiles’ discomfort, or that his cheeks were starting to turn a shade of pink. “Just level with me here,” Greenberg added while he continued to stare expectantly and unblinkingly.</p><p>“Well…” Stiles began while trying to find a way to navigate this safely without coming off as abrupt or rude himself. Having found no other way around it, he decided to just go with “...actually, yeah.” Maybe the lack of details would get Greenberg to drop the subject.</p><p>In hindsight, Stiles thought that he should have known better after seven years of working with the man. Greenberg looked positively agog before exclaiming “What? So, does that mean you’re still a <em> virgin </em>?!”</p><p>Stiles was certain that the outburst drew a few curious stares this time around.</p><p>“Please keep your voice down,” Stiles pleaded in a frantic whisper. It seemed this was all the confirmation Greenberg needed since he made a noise of understanding and began to mumble to himself and fix Stiles with an interested gaze.</p><p>“You know, this is kind of bordering on sexual harassment,” mumbled Stiles as he shuffled some papers on his desk nervously. Greenberg didn’t seem to hear him but thankfully moved on to a different line of questions.</p><p>“Okay, okay, wait. How old are you exactly?” Greenberg placed an elbow on Stiles’ desk and cradled his own chin thoughtfully.</p><p>“I turn thirty tomorrow actually,” replied Stiles, happy to take the conversation elsewhere.</p><p>Greenberg considered this when his focus was pulled by another co-worker passing by their row. Kira Yukimura was a kitsune who appeared to be Stiles’ age though given the longevity of her species, she could have easily been decades older. Stiles always liked Kira well enough since she first started at Nemeton. She had a bright and cheerful disposition and was well liked around the office.</p><p>“Hey, Kira! Kira, Kira, Kira!” Greenberg called out to their colleague. Kira turned her friendly and curious gaze to the two humans.</p><p>Stiles had turned his chair to face her and offer a friendly smile, when he felt Greenberg clap both his hands down on his shoulders.</p><p>“It is <em> this guy’s </em> birthday tomorrow!” Greenberg continued.</p><p>Kira turned her thousand-watt smile on Stiles with a greeting of “Happy early birthday!” Stiles was able to reply with a somewhat flustered thanks in return before Kira thankfully considered that the end of her part in the conversation. She continued on to her own desk.</p><p>Stiles turned back to his work and breakfast, hoping that would be the end of this latest awkward encounter. Greenberg apparently was not quite ready to drop this subject just yet and grabbed the nearest side of Stiles’ chair to turn him so they were facing the same direction, toward where Kira had walked off.</p><p>“What do <em> you </em> think about Kira huh, Stilinski?” Greenberg asked. Stiles wasn’t sure if kitsune had heightened hearing but he was pretty sure every werewolf in the bullpen heard Greenberg’s stage whisper.</p><p>Stiles stared at the woman in question enviously as she sat at her desk, unbothered, going through her own emails. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Greenberg shot him an annoyed look, “My info says she currently does not have a boyfriend.”</p><p>“Okay…?”</p><p>Greenberg clapped his hands down on Stiles shoulders again, “What do you say? Want me to wingman up and put in a good word for you?”</p><p>Stiles squirmed out from under Greenberg’s clutches “Uh, no, that’s not at all necessary,” he stated nervously but not impolitely.</p><p>Wrong answer apparently since Greenberg grabbed a hold of Stiles’ armrests, this time turning him so they were face-to-face.</p><p>“I don’t think you understand the gravity of this and how you should be much more freaked out!” he exclaimed. “Don’t you know that if you’re still a virgin at thirty, you get magic powers and become a wizard?!” Greenberg had slowly risen from his chair during his tirade, now on his feet and was looming over Stiles as if to further impress the gravity of the situation or whatever.</p><p>Stiles tried hard while at work to usually remain inoffensive but he couldn’t help the look of pure doubt that crossed his face. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing.”</p><p>“It’s most definitely a thing in Japan,” Greenberg argued, dropping back into his seat.</p><p>Stiles didn’t know enough about Japan to dispute his colleague’s claim. He decided to laugh their conversation off, albeit nervously. “If you’re sure it’s a thing then it’s probably all just a big urban legend,” he attempted to state with certainty but by the look on the other man’s face, not sure he pulled it off. “Do you really believe something like that could happen?”</p><p>“We share this city with weres and kitsune and whatever else goes bump in the night and you think gaining magical virgin powers is out of the question?” Greenberg leveled Stiles with an unimpressed gaze. “Should we call Kira back here so she can back me up?”</p><p>Greenberg looked like he was ready to get back on his feet to holler for and wave Kira back over so Stiles knew he had to at least try and end the conversation.</p><p>“Alright, I get what you’re saying,” Stiles conceded, “and your concern is noted. Can we get back to work now please?” he pleaded with as much finality as he could muster. Greenberg finally got the hint and dragged his chair back to his desk and dove into work himself.</p><p>It wasn’t like Stiles intended on staying a virgin. He wasn’t frigid and inaccessible; he’d certainly fallen in love before. He had crushes where it felt like those people were the be all, end all. That was definitely how it felt when each of those people let him know with certainty that they just didn’t see him in a romantic light.</p><p>Stiles still definitely valued their friendships so after a brief mourning period, he made an effort to stay friends. He was happy for them when they ended up in happy, long term relationships with other people. People who were noticeably the farthest thing from the shy, klutzy, anxious mess that Stiles was.</p><p>Stiles liked Kira well enough. Kira was <em> great </em>. She was a great workplace acquaintance; a great colleague. But he had not really let himself consider her anything past that. With his overall disposition and lack of experience at this point of his life, he couldn’t really bring himself to take action, much less think of what would come next. It most likely would not end well for him, given past experiences.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles was deep in his thoughts as he grabbed his documents from the office printer. He also made a point to deliver his other coworkers’ copies from the outgoing tray to their desks since he was already out of his seat.</p><p>On Stiles’ way back to his seat, he passed by a group of his colleagues discussing what sounded like the LA nightlife scene, based on the snippets of conversation he heard. He was able to easily identify Braeden and Paige as part of the conversation but there was one other person with them who had his back turned to the approaching human man.</p><p>“There’s this new steakhouse-bistro close to the fashion district that has a really great selection of wolfsbane wines. We can go grab dinner sometime and check it out?” The raspier voice belonged to Braeden, their Office Administrator.</p><p>“That’s a great idea! I’ll bring it up to Raf and see if we can set up a team dinner some time!” <em> Ah. </em> Stiles didn’t need to see the man’s face to know who he was.</p><p>“O-oh. You didn’t want to check it out in, say like, a smaller group?” That would be Paige. She worked with the Design Team. And hoped to keep the invite small and intimate, apparently.</p><p>“Won’t it be a lot more fun if everyone got to go though?”</p><p>Derek Hale was a werewolf who was instantly recognizable from his perfectly styled dark hair, groomed beard, and tailored three-piece suits. He was handsome, tall, well-built, approachable, charming, and naturally very well-liked at work. He was also the sales team’s best salesman, having brought in more clients and revenue and shattered more sales records than any individual member of that department. He was management’s dream employee and clearly the women of the office didn’t think he was half bad.</p><p>Derek was just a few years older than Stiles and moved down to LA from San Francisco, where his family and pack were based, about seven years ago. They started at Nemeton around the same time. Derek was instantly the subject of fascination during their first week and it seemed like almost everyone had googled him in some way or other.</p><p>Derek had gone to Stanford for college and graduated with honors.</p><p>Derek was captain of his high school’s academic decathlon team in his senior year and led them to victory at Nor-Cal Regionals.</p><p>Derek played basketball and baseball and was MVP in both.</p><p>If Stiles was a more egotistical person, he would have been irritated and resentful of Derek for stealing all the new employee thunder during their first week. But Stiles was more relieved than anything that there weren’t that many people trying to pry small talk out of him.</p><p>Stiles had very limited significant encounters with Derek despite their history as colleagues. They shared the same office space and lunchroom for the better part of a decade but Stiles can’t recall any significant conversations between them, if there were even any. It wasn’t like they had any overlap in accomplishments or interests that could be proper conversation starters. Their shared experience with the company and the fact that they were both men is all they really had in common; the differences between them were like night and day.</p><p>Derek’s head perked up as Stiles was passing through and the werewolf turned, regarding the other man carefully. “Good morning,” he greeted with a friendly smile.</p><p>Stiles nodded back, “Morning,” and kept his head down as he made his way back. Derek’s toothy, white smile was blinding. And intimidating. Stiles felt inadequate.</p><p>Stiles left the trio to their conversation as he went straight for his desk. <em> If I could just have one thing that Derek Hale has… </em></p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> If I could just have one thing that Derek Hale has… </em>
</p><p>The thought had stayed with Stiles throughout his workday up until his walk back to the nearby rail station for his commute home. Ultimately, to save himself from an evening of eating his feelings and some self-loathing, he decided to settle on a simple truth: <em> I shouldn’t bother wishing for things I can’t have. </em></p><p>Stiles stopped at a nearby food truck right after getting off his stop and picked up a chicken, tater tot, and cheese breakfast burrito. And a large blended horchata. Stiles figured that not eating his feelings was one thing but he wasn’t denying himself his favorites <em>this close</em> to his birthday.</p><p><em> At the very least, if I were to learn that someone out there was in love with me… </em>, Stiles mused to himself. He quickly dismissed this thought with a chuckle.</p><p>
  <em> I’m an idiot. </em>
</p><p>Stiles stubbed his toe on a piece of uneven sidewalk and stumbled. He managed to catch himself in time, thankfully, and save both his dinner and beverage.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles’ alarm went off the next morning promptly at 7 am, as scheduled. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and dismissed the on-screen notification.</p><p>
  <em> Happy Birthday to me. Goodbye, my 20s; hello, my 30s. So far, so good. </em>
</p><p>Stiles pulled up his messenger app which had two notifications. They were both birthday greetings; one from his dad and the other from his college friend, Isaac. Stiles fired off a quick thanks to both.</p><p>
  <em> And that’s it for today’s festivities. </em>
</p><p>Stiles got ready for work in record time, sparing a quick glance at his bathroom mirror to make sense of his sleep-mussed hair. He grabbed his trusty, well-worn, satchel and was out the door and in front of his favorite food truck while he waited for his train to arrive. Stiles grabbed his usual, a pre-made ham and cheese sandwich, and dug for his wallet to pay.</p><p>Stiles handed over a $5 bill to pay for his order, which the cashier reached out to receive. Then it happened.</p><p>
  <em> “Alright. Same old ham and cheese for this dude. Again.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles felt the money leave his hand yet he stayed frozen with his arm extended. He was <em> pretty sure </em> that was the cashier’s voice but the last thing he actually said was Stiles’ total; the guy was smiling expectantly at him the rest of the time.</p><p>The cashier took the opportunity to pass Stiles’ change back. As soon as the money was in his hands, it happened again.</p><p>
  <em> “It’s pretty amazing he still isn’t tired of these. I guess he’s one of those people who enjoys the simple stuff?” </em>
</p><p>“What?” Stiles blurted out before he could stop himself.</p><p>“Hmm?” the cashier and apparently the same person who prepares the food hummed in response, he himself now visibly puzzled as well.</p><p>“N-nothing. Nevermind,” Stiles replied. The cashier then handed over his purchase in a bag which Stiles warily accepted.</p><p>“Thank you! Enjoy!” the cashier called after him. Stiles figured he was a lot more excited about his thirtieth birthday than he thought he was and it was all now just getting to him.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>It turns out, it wasn’t to be chalked up to plain old birthday excitement. Stiles figured as much when it continued to happen on the train. Now, waiting to cross the street among a throng of other office workers, the morning’s strange occurrence just continued to happen.</p><p>
  <em> “This is taking forever!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “My stomach hurts.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I wish that bastard would get fired.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t feel like heading into work today.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m exhausted.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles stood stock still, silently freaking out. He was stuck standing shoulder-to-shoulder with other office workers waiting for the ‘Do Not Walk’ light to change. The woman in front of him shifted slightly and almost crushed his toes with her heel so Stiles took a reflexive step back. This brought him in contact with the guy standing behind to his right. Stiles instinctively turned to apologize only to find the man already staring him down.</p><p>
  <em> “The hell is your problem, man?” </em>
</p><p>“Huh?” Stiles uttered stupidly, not for the first time today and most definitely not the last.</p><p>
  <em> Wha-what the hell is going on?! </em>
</p><p>Stiles booked it across the street as soon as the light changed. He only stopped to catch his breath after reaching a bay of parking meters.</p><p>“What is happening?” Stiles exclaimed, mostly to himself. He was in the process of crouching down and tucking his head between his knees when he felt an authoritative tap on his shoulder.</p><p>“Everything alright, sir?”</p><p>Stiles quickly looked up to find a parking enforcement officer observing him carefully. The guy had stayed close and kept his hand on Stiles’ shoulder so he was almost unsurprised to hear a <em> “Please don’t make me have to deal with a drunk and disorderly </em> this <em> early in the morning.” </em></p><p>Stiles jerked away from the contact. This wasn’t the brightest move since it set off a chain reaction of him ping-ponging off people who most likely had some place to be and were just trying to go about their individual days.</p><p>
  <em> “Move it!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re in my way!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Watch it!” </em>
</p><p>It was a testament to how much of a stickler Stiles was to his routine that he still bothered to continue his commute, all the while jumpily trying to avoid anyone and everyone. As soon as he arrived at the Nemeton office, he quickly took refuge at his desk, running his hands through his hair and quietly freaking out internally. He heard some movement behind him and barely registered the arrival of Greenberg, who set his briefcase down and placed a hand directly on Stiles’ shoulder.</p><p>“Good morning, pal! Happy B-day! It’s the big 3-0, how’s it feel to finally get over that hill?”</p><p>Stiles, still shaken, could only offer a feeble thanks in return. Greenberg’s smile turned to that of sympathy as he continued to look him over. Like clockwork, he once again heard his coworker’s voice bouncing around in his head despite the man’s lips no longer moving.</p><p><em> “Ah hell. Looks like the doom and gloom are out in full force, even today.” </em> Greenberg tried to offer him a final, more encouraging smile which looked more constipated than anything else before clapping Stiles on the shoulder a final time and heading back to his desk.</p><p>Thinking back to this morning’s ordeal, Stiles started to notice a pattern. This didn’t seem to happen unless he was directly touching someone. And there wasn’t quite anything like unwanted physical contact than your typical LA rush hour commute. Stiles was now determined to test his theory. Complete silence now, he noted, aside from the usual bustle as his coworkers slowly started trickling in. He raised a hand, turned, and placed his palm on an unsuspecting Greenberg’s shoulder.</p><p>
  <em> “It’s been seven years and I still can’t seem to joke around with the guy. Still, he’s a decent worker and he’s good to have around seeing as he picks up my slack whenever I need him to.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles abruptly pulled his hand off. So his theory is correct; he has to be touching someone to...hear their thoughts? “Seriously?”</p><p>His outburst caught Greenberg’s attention again. “What’s up Stilinski? Feeling the birthday magic yet?”</p><p>The seemingly inconsequential conversation from yesterday shot to the surface of Stiles’ mind and he scrambled to his feet. He’s pretty sure he just drew the attention of the entire office to himself but at this time, he couldn’t bring himself to care.</p><p><em> Could I really have gained magic powers just by being a </em> virgin <em> at </em> thirty<em>?! </em></p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles’ alarm now went off promptly at 6 am. He got up right away to start getting ready at the risk of staying in bed, attempting to blink the sleep away and dozing back off. It was exactly a week from his thirtieth birthday and apparently, his new normal. As soon as he was dressed for the day, Stiles spared himself a very brief glance at the mirror and considered the state of his hair passable before slinging his satchel over his shoulder and leaving for work.</p><p>Stiles’ willingness to roll with the punches was frightening to him sometimes. His solution to what he now maintains is a prolonged and ongoing delusion was to start getting up earlier to catch a different train and deal with less people. He started using mobile payments and eliminated the use of cash if he can help it, aside from the occasional peanut butter cups from the building vending machines. Stiles took steps and made lifestyle changes, all in the effort to minimize physical contact with others as much as possible. Stiles has also taken to changing up his routine a bit. For example: he bought a turkey and swiss sandwich instead.</p><p>Stiles had gone to the downtown public library after work on his birthday to quickly research his supposed affliction, simply out of desperation at having no other remotely possible explanation. That and he was killing time to take the later trains with less people trying to head home. Turns out, Greenberg was right; thirty year-old virgin wizards were most definitely a thing in Japan. He wondered why this would be the first time he’s hearing of it when it’s clearly not some region-locked issue. It may or may not actually be happening to him all the way out here in So-Cal.</p><p>That aside, the solution as he suspected was fairly obvious. If you had to be a virgin to gain the power, you just had to get de-virginized to lose it.</p><p>But in Stiles’ perspective, that was practically impossible.</p><p>Stiles managed to reach his office building’s lobby without as much as lightly grazing strangers in passing. There were already quite a few people milling about the elevator doors. Looked like this was going to be a tight fit.</p><p>Stiles let everyone loitering behind and around him board the lift that just arrived before he checked if he’d be safe squeezing in as well. There was space right by the doors if he just hunched into himself a little.</p><p>
  <em> No, better not, just to be safe. </em>
</p><p>The elevator doors shut and obscured Stiles’ view of the people inside, most of them staring down at their phones, probably preoccupied with the day’s emails. As he faintly heard the gears and cables hum to life as the lift departed, Stiles made it a point to breathe deeply and relax his shoulders and neck.</p><p>“Good morning.”</p><p>Stiles turned to look at the new arrival who announced his presence. Derek Hale. Stiles took a step sideways to put some distance between them.</p><p>“Hi,” Stiles replied simply.</p><p>Derek stepped forward as they both faced the elevator doors and pressed the button calling the lift back. He turned his head and gave Stiles another easy smile. “You’re here early today.” There was no judgement in his tone, it was just a statement of fact.</p><p>“Oh. Right, yeah. I guess so,” was Stiles’ response, now feeling somewhat obliged to fill the otherwise dead air between them. Stiles has most often just exchanged greetings with Derek before. Inconsequential small talk aside, Stiles noticed that yes, Derek had a nice voice, as were most things about him; it was deep, mature, and reassuring. But there was a softness and gentleness to it as well.</p><p>Derek got that look on his face Stiles has seen on other weres when they were focusing on their heightened hearing. He could probably hear the people on the elevator shuffling around as they traveled further up the building. “Sounds like it barely just left,” Derek mumbled to himself before turning to Stiles with his thumb pointed above in a clear gesture. “Feel like taking the stairs?” he inquired.</p><p>Stiles considered his coworker’s question before he understood what that would actually entail. “Wait, what? We work on the tenth floor,” he stated plainly. Derek could probably make the climb without breaking a sweat and he was more than welcome to. Stiles didn’t want to be in pain before his day even started.</p><p>Derek appeared to get the hint. “Would have been a good way to get some steps in,” he replied lightly and chuckled at his own joke.</p><p>
  <em> His smile is blinding. </em>
</p><p>By the time the elevator returned, there were already a few more people milling about, waiting with them. Stiles had gone in and hit the button for the tenth floor and moved against the wall to make room for everyone else. Derek Hale was right behind him, offering a very genuine thanks to Stiles before wishing everyone else who walked into the lift a good morning. Stiles managed to position himself against a wall, making sure he kept some distance between him and everyone else.</p><p><em> Now here’s a guy who won’t ever have to deal with </em> this, Stiles thought to himself, staring down at his hands. <em> Derek probably lost his virginity in his teens. Probably prom night. If not that, he’s surely not in short supply of any offers. </em></p><p>As the elevator slowly filled up, a late arrival managed to join the tail end of their group. Unfortunately, the man also had a large, bulging backpack and wedged himself between Stiles and the other passenger standing against the panel of buttons. This knocked Stiles back and slightly off balance, pinning him in place against Derek’s arm.</p><p>
  <em> Oh crap! </em>
</p><p>Like clockwork, Stiles started to hear what was unmistakably Derek Hale’s voice inside his head.</p><p><em> “I can’t believe my luck. We </em> actually <em> managed to run into each other this morning.” </em></p><p>That caught Stiles’ attention. Against his better judgment, he was intrigued. Still pinned back by the bulging backpack, it’s not like he was going anywhere anyway.</p><p>
  <em> “Need to play it cool though. If I stare too long, I’ll risk giving myself away.” </em>
</p><p><em> Ooh! Does Derek Hale have a crush on someone in our office? </em>Stiles attempted to scope out anyone they would both know who was in the elevator with them but he was distracted when Derek’s thoughts continued.</p><p><em> “Oh my god. That bedhead is </em> so <em> cute. Can’t decide if I want to smooth it down or run my fingers through it.” </em></p><p>Stiles continued to survey the other passengers. <em> Bedhead? That kind of </em> does <em> sound endearing. Who? Who’s the lucky girl who ended up catching the eye of Derek Hale? </em></p><p>Stiles couldn’t dwell on his new inside scoop on the office gossip for too long when the elevator stopped at one of the levels just before their floor. The good news was, this turned out to be bulging-backpack-guy’s floor. </p><p>Bad news — same goes for some person toward the very back who had to wade through everyone else to get out. He ended up knocking Derek forward in his haste to exit the lift. This caused Derek to stumble right into Stiles who had nowhere else to go except press himself further against the wall and bend his knees into a slight crouch to avoid injury from being crushed by at least 190 pounds of werewolf. </p><p>Years back, Stiles read in a book somewhere that weres are known for their balance, agility, and quick reflexes, among other things. Of course, dispensations would have to be made when they are crammed into a tiny, metal box with a handful of other warm bodies. Thankfully, Derek did manage to catch himself mid-stumble by planting an arm against the wall right above Stiles’ head. The problem Stiles found himself in now was that they were in much closer proximity now than before.</p><p>Stiles made eye contact with the werewolf. Derek clearly also noticed the position they found themselves in when he offered Stiles a small, tentative smile, a hint of awkwardness creeping into the edges. “Sorry. You okay?” Derek asked.</p><p>Stiles remembered also reading that werewolves tended to run hot and the book was right. Derek <em> was </em> in fact a warm presence against him. “Umm, yeah.”</p><p>
  <em> “Oh god, he’s so close!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What —? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t know what I did in a previous life to deserve this first thing in the morning… my heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of my chest!” </em>
</p><p>Stiles could now feel as well as hear the rapid <em> tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump </em>of what would have to be Derek’s heartbeat.</p><p>
  <em> No. No no no no no. This isn’t possible. There is no way that Derek Hale was referring to — </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Stiles can’t hear my heartbeat, can he?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> … </em>
</p><p>
  <em> …what?! </em>
</p><p>With the number of people that stepped off the lift, Derek had some space to move away from Stiles, effectively cutting off their contact and giving the human the chance to get himself upright. Though, the way Stiles’ legs felt like they were made of jelly, it was a miracle in itself he didn’t just collapse right there.</p><p>Soon enough, the elevator arrived at their destination where they and a number of other people piled out. Stiles walked forward in a daze, still processing the bombshell that was dropped on his life. He lifted his gaze to learn that Derek had lingered nearby, regarding Stiles carefully, despite everyone else having gone into their respective offices. Derek flashed a small smile and gave Stiles an encouraging nod.</p><p>“Let’s get to work then. I’ll see you inside.” With that, Derek strode through the entrance of Nemeton, Inc.</p><p>Hopelessly confused and unable to handle this level of stress at such an early time, Stiles reached up to scratch behind his ear nervously when he felt it. Tufts of hair, still obviously sleep-mussed and sticking out at odd angles.</p><p>
  <em> Bedhead. Bed… head? </em>
</p><p>At that point, Stiles figured that very recent events can only allow him to arrive at one possible and very obvious conclusion:</p><p>“ME?!”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>A trip to the restroom to fix his hair and several hours of mindlessly plugging data into a spreadsheet later, Stiles was still on a low-simmer freak-out. To stop himself from being consumed and overwhelmed by the day’s events, Stiles had to keep telling himself just one thing:</p><p>
  <em> The one thing this proves is that this whole reading minds thing is definitely all in my head! Like, an auditory hallucination. It’s probably a sign for me to finally go back to therapy! </em>
</p><p>Stiles swivels around in his chair, easily spotting Derek deep in conversation with a colleague. <em> There’s absolutely no way in hell that Derek Hale would like someone like me. </em></p><p>Turning slightly, Stiles spotted Greenberg in conversation with Rafael McCall, their Sales Ops Manager. By the look and sound of things, there’s been another deadline mix-up. Stiles’ suspicions were confirmed when Greenberg left the conversation with a sheepish smile and a thick wad of binders and folders that looked full to bursting with sales data that needed to be compiled. Being all too familiar with what comes next, Stiles focused his gaze back onto his own work at hand, trying to look preoccupied or even busy.</p><p>As expected, Greenberg fell into the nearby seat, heaving a great, big sigh within the same motion. Stiles kept his gaze unmoving on a single cell in the spreadsheet he was working on. He could now feel Greenberg’s gaze on him.</p><p>Sensing that they were now heading into phase two of this dance they did when Greenberg had work he didn’t want to deal with, Stiles heard and felt said coworker sidle a bit closer to him. Another big, put-upon sigh. Then —</p><p><em> “The wife is gonna be  </em> so  <em> pissed. Can’t believe we have to cancel our anniversary plans.” </em></p><p>Stiles dropped his gaze to the ground to find that, yep, Greenberg’s foot was just about touching his. Forgetting that he was pretending <em> not </em> to notice, Stiles lifted his head to look right at his coworker who was already staring at him hopefully.</p><p>
  <em> Ah, crap. </em>
</p><p>“Stilinski…” Greenberg started tentatively with a pathetic pout.</p><p>Feeling himself cave, Stiles resigned himself to his fate. He lasted a lot longer this time around so there’s that. “Should I go ahead and take care of those?”</p><p>Greenberg nodded gratefully. “You’re a real one.”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>The data had to be compiled for <em> tomorrow </em>. This was going to be a late night for sure. Stiles was somewhat peeved when Greenberg ended up ducking out, uttering more of his thanks along the way, at 5 pm on the dot. But if it was between work and his relationship, he understood where Greenberg is coming from. Stiles couldn’t go home at his usual time with a clear conscience if there was some way he could help.</p><p>Stiles had been plodding away at the data for what felt like hours. The office was empty. It was dark out and the office lights were switched to only turn on when they detected motion. The bullpen was dark save for the lights around Stiles’ desk.</p><p>Stiles allowed himself to grumble in frustration. “There’s no end in sight! Why did I think I could take on more work?” He ran his fingers through his hair then crossed his arms on his desk so he could rest his head briefly and released a groan that was itching to come out.</p><p>Stiles let himself sit a little too long in his emotions so he had not heard the presence behind him approach until the person made themself known by speaking.</p><p>“Hey. You’re still here.”</p><p>Stiles turned and noticed the new arrival and their gentle smile. “Derek.”</p><p>Derek suddenly looked a little… playful? Or even mischievous? And Stiles didn’t know what to make of that. He was also now drifting closer. Stiles <em> definitely </em> did not know how to handle that. He then noticed that Derek had both hands hidden behind his back. <em> Oh no. Oh god. </em></p><p>Derek extended one arm towards Stiles, offering the item he was clutching. “Surprise!” he declared then chuckled at his own behavior.</p><p>Stiles involuntarily flinched away then carefully considered the item Derek was holding out to him. It was a bottle of cold brew iced coffee. In fact, it was Stiles’ favorite brand of cold brew.</p><p>Stiles may have taken too long to react, since Derek shifted subtly and offered an explanation. “Our team meeting ran a little long so I got everyone some drinks from the machine down the hall. We had one left over so I thought you might like it.”</p><p>Stiles carefully reached for the proffered bottle, the coldness and condensation on its surface momentarily distracting him from how his and Derek’s fingers overlapped as he grasped the item more firmly.</p><p><em> “I actually bought this </em> just <em> for Stiles, though.” </em></p><p>Stiles managed to keep a good grip on the bottle as he recoiled from the contact.</p><p>
  <em> Okay, I shouldn’t panic. This is a hallucination, remember? I’ll make my excuses to end this conversation then get back to work. </em>
</p><p>Stiles turns back toward Derek. “T-thanks,” he replies belatedly. He didn’t quite have anything else to say so he lamely adds, “Okay. Well, see you later. Get home safe.”</p><p>Stiles thought he was in the clear, getting back to his data sheets and documents. He had input a couple of new values when he realized he didn’t hear any footsteps or movement that would mean Derek left.</p><p>Stiles turned his head minutely and sure enough, Derek was still lingering in his periphery. At the same time, the werewolf chose that moment to move even closer and bend over to peer interestedly at Stiles’ work.</p><p>Stiles could feel warmth radiating from Derek all along his side. Stiles released the breath he had been holding in a shudder.</p><p>“Are these our numbers for Valet Publishing?” Derek inquired interestedly. </p><p>“Uhh, yeah. I was asked to compile our past transaction data with them, so,” Stiles threw his hands out in a loose shrug, “here I am.”</p><p>Derek briefly glanced between Stiles and the information on his monitor. “Wouldn’t it be better to have more data than just from the past five years?”</p><p>“What? But —”</p><p>“I’ll help you.” It sounded both like an offer and a statement of fact. “I’ll be right back with some files.”</p><p>With a nod of finality, Stiles watched as Derek glided off, presumably to the records room, to search for the documents in question.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles shifted uncomfortably in silence while Derek worked. The werewolf was seated at the empty desk adjacent to Stiles’, papers spread on its surface while he carefully sorted them into piles. For the past ten minutes, it’s just been the two of them. Here. Alone.</p><p>Stiles found himself observing Derek and the sureness in his movements as he worked. Derek looked up from shuffling papers around and met Stiles’ gaze with a questioning smile. “What’s up?”</p><p>“Oh. Um,” Stiles turned the slightest shade pink, feeling guilty he was caught staring. He attempted to explain, “I was just thinking… you’re pretty amazing, Derek. You know?”</p><p>Derek chuckled. Stiles wasn’t sure why, but the werewolf seemed to find his explanation amusing. “What do you mean?” Derek inquired, returning to working on the papers in his hands.</p><p>“Well,” despite still feeling very self-conscious, Stiles found himself plowing on, “you’re great at your job. You’re dependable so everyone here can trust you to come through.” Stiles fidgeted slightly in his seat before he stated with certainty, “I actually really admire you.”</p><p>Derek appeared to consider his words for a second. It might have been the limited fluorescent lightning around their area, but it looks like the tips of Derek’s ears were turning a shade pink as well. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that,” replied Derek,his answering smile crinkling his eyes. “Thanks Stiles. That means a lot.”</p><p>A beat passed in silence as they continued to consider each other carefully. Stiles found himself smiling at the other man, which made Derek’s grin grow bigger before he turned back toward the data they would be adding to Stiles’ report. “Alright, let’s focus,” Derek stated determinedly. “Eyes on the prize.”</p><p><em> Oh, right. </em> For a moment, Stiles forgot why they were both even there. “Yup, sorry,” he replied and scooted closer to the sheets in Derek’s hands. ‘Uhh, where were we?”</p><p>Derek hummed thoughtfully, moving his index finger down the list of table elements and numbers. “Here, I think,” he tapped the line item to draw Stiles’ attention to it.</p><p>“Ah, right.”</p><p>Stiles could hear Derek barely mumbling to himself. Curiosity got the better of him and Stiles moved closer, causing their arms to touch across their arm rests.</p><p><em> “Stiles smells </em> really <em> good right now. I mean, he always smells amazing. But until today, I don’t think I’ve ever been close enough to properly take in his scent.” </em></p><p>Stiles’ brain was screaming at him to pull away. But to be fair, he was under a little too much stress at the time for his mind and body to have a good working relationship. So he was kind of a captive audience for now.</p><p>
  <em> “There’s something there that’s mixed with his natural scent that’s just about to drive me crazy. Is it his shampoo? A fabric softener?” </em>
</p><p>Stiles couldn’t help it. He sniffed himself in what he thought was a subtle way.</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t know if I want to hit up a Target and start sniffing bottles or if I just want to bury my face into the collar of his shirt. Actually, the choice is obvious… just not appropriate.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles finally mustered enough willpower to lean closer to his monitor and break the contact. “Um… uhh… where…” he cleared his throat nervously, “where were we?”</p><p>“Isn’t this what goes next?” Derek tapped the next line on the page, clearly none the wiser of what Stiles was going through.</p><p>“Oh, um… yeah.” Stiles cautiously leaned closer again, making sure his arm was out of reach as he peered closer at the sheet Derek was holding out to him. Stiles felt his companion’s eyes on him for a second before shifting his gaze back to their work. Out of the corner of his eye, it looked like Derek was now chewing on his bottom lip. Stiles felt their knees touch.</p><p><em> “That </em> mole <em> below his ear. That is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. I can’t have been the only person who’s noticed it.  </em></p><p>Stiles decided that thirty years for him was a life well lived and he wouldn’t be too fussed if death came for him right this second.</p><p><em> “I can’t get my mind off that mole. Oh god, I want to </em> lick <em> it.” </em></p><p>Stiles stood up abruptly. His office chair skidded back about a foot. “Wait!” Stiles exclaimed.</p><p>Derek was staring curiously up at him. Stiles <em> had </em>to get out of there. “Umm, restroom,” he quickly uttered before he walked away from his desk without another word. He thought he heard Derek reply with “sure” but he was already out the door and more concerned about putting some distance between them for now.</p><p>Stiles bolted down the hall and threw himself bodily against the men’s restroom door. Once inside, he went straight for the large wall of mirrors above the sinks. It took some time, angling his head just the <em> right </em>way, and trying to focus while looking out of the corner of his eye when he finally spotted it. Sure enough, below his earlobe and close to where his jaw met his neck, there it was.</p><p>“There really is a mole there after all,” Stiles mumbled to himself. He already has quite the constellation of moles and freckles across his pale skin so he hadn’t really bothered to catalogue and keep track of each and every single one. But the fact that he <em> heard </em> Derek. Through what <em> should </em> be this hallucination. And yet…</p><p>“This isn’t all just in my head.”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> These are his real, actual thoughts. That I am somehow hearing. </em>
</p><p>After splashing some cold water on his face and heading back to a waiting Derek, they managed to power through with the remaining data. Stiles was somehow able to keep the rest of their physical contact scarce. And the times he did graze or brush by Derek, he was thankfully thinking of the task at hand.</p><p>They were back in the elevator, the same place where the day’s ordeal began, as they made their way down to the ground floor. Derek was clutching his bag easily at his side, yawning at some point and twisting his neck from side to side, earning a satisfying crack from his efforts. Stiles turned away discreetly.</p><p>He thought back to about a week ago. <em> If I were to learn that someone out there was in love with me… </em> he really had the audacity to consider even briefly. Was this some kind of sick joke the universe was now playing on Stiles? He’s had these <em> abilities </em> for just about a week and now apparently the office heartthrob, the man who can have his pick of any of the beautiful women in their staff, only had eyes for an unremarkable data-stooge wallflower?</p><p>
  <em> This is too much for me to handle. I just want to go home, bundle up under the covers and hopefully wake up and all of today was just some elaborate, unrealistic dream. </em>
</p><p>Both men exited their office building into the nippy fall air. Stiles was vaguely aware of Derek remarking as much about the climate but he was too lost in his thoughts to come up with a response.</p><p>“Stiles?”</p><p>
  <em> Why me of all people anyway? Maybe he’s just working too hard and the stress is slowly driving him crazy! He should go on vaca — </em>
</p><p>Stiles interrupted his own internal rambling with a loud and sudden sneeze. It <em> was </em>definitely starting to get much colder.</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>Stiles turned around to face Derek who had stopped a few feet behind him. The werewolf had a look of concern on his face.</p><p>Stiles felt the need to reassure Derek. “I’m okay,” Stiles stated, currently feeling anything but. If the werewolf could hear the lie in his heartbeat, he was gracious enough not to call him out on it. Stiles briefly wondered if that would still even qualify as a lie. He’s fairly used to brushing off other people’s concern; he was not at all comfortable with causing any inconvenience or taking up too much space. “It really is getting cold though, isn’t it?” Stiles intoned, trying to pick up some semblance of conversation.</p><p>Derek was preoccupied rummaging through his bag and soon produced a scarf. There was a large, solid red stripe running down the center with alternating black and white stripes on either side. It looked really warm and soft.</p><p>Derek moved closer and was now holding the scarf out for Stiles to take. “You can use this,” he offered.</p><p>Stiles felt himself take a half step back. “I’m good, Derek! <em> You </em> should use it though. I’m pretty sure the whole office will come to a standstill if you get sick… if that’s even a thing that happens to you.”</p><p>Derek’s mouth was a thin, resolute line. “You’re taking this,” he stated firmly, stepping even closer and unravelling the scarf to drape each end over Stiles’ shoulders.</p><p>Derek began to busy himself with wrapping the scarf snugly around Stiles. As Derek wound and adjusted the soft material to make sure the human was warm and cozy, his thoughts were continuously running through Stiles’ mind.</p><p>
  <em> “Stiles has too little self-esteem.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He’s always pulling away; I see him read a situation then just withdraw into himself. Most often than not, he smells of anxiety.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I saw him as I came in this morning. He let everyone around him into the elevator until there was barely enough breathing room for himself.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I know Greenberg is constantly passing his work off to him. But he never complains, he just buckles down and completes his task.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles couldn’t help but look right at Derek, who was too preoccupied with his task to notice. Sales was stationed at the other end of the bullpen. How could he know that?</p><p>
  <em> “In all the time I’ve lived in this city, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as patient or as kind or as decent as Stiles.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “His work is usually the most accurate and well-compiled; shows how careful and meticulous he is.” </em>
</p><p>Derek appeared to be satisfied with his work as he gently pat the scarf in place across Stiles’ shoulders.</p><p>
  <em> “That’s just a few of the things that I…” </em>
</p><p>Derek pulled away, effectively silencing his thoughts from Stiles as well. “All set.”</p><p>Stiles couldn’t keep his gaze on Derek. “Thanks,” he mumbled meekly. Stiles tended to keep to himself and concentrate on the job, partially because he was shy but also because he usually tries to stay considerate and out of people’s way. Most of his coworkers tend to think he’s a bit of a pushover loner. But apparently not Derek. Stiles had never quite felt so seen; so… acknowledged. He didn’t know how to process his feelings.</p><p><em> I’m sorry for thinking you’d gone crazy. </em> Stiles definitely felt guilt and remorse for simplifying and making light of Derek’s thoughts and feelings.</p><p>Derek continued to survey Stiles, particularly how his scarf looked wrapped around his neck. “It looks good on you,” he stated with genuine approval.</p><p><em> I never imagined that there would be </em> anyone <em> who would pay this much attention to me. </em> For most of Stiles’ life, he mostly ever felt like an afterthought to other people then soon enough to himself. He could feel the prick of tears as they threatened to well up. Stiles dropped his gaze in the hopes that Derek wouldn’t notice.</p><p>“Well, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Stiles, already turning to head down the steps of their building’s small courtyard.</p><p>“Stiles?”</p><p>At the mention of his name, he turned back toward Derek. “Is the Metro still running to your stop?”</p><p>“Oh,” Stiles failed to consider that. He pulled out his phone and checked his maps app. “Ohhh man. No, it isn’t.”</p><p>“Thought so.”</p><p>“I’ll be okay though,” Stiles stated, feeling the need to reassure Derek. “I can see how close to home the buses that are still running can take me. That or I can just get a Lyft.”</p><p>Derek looked like he was about to protest but Stiles didn’t want Derek to feel obligated to offer him a ride home. The werewolf already lived within the area and driving Stiles to his suburb was out of his way and definitely an inconvenience. So Stiles decided to change the subject. </p><p>“Thanks by the way. For today. For, you know, helping me out and keeping me company.” With a final nod and a “See you later,” Stiles turned once again to head for the nearest bus stop.</p><p>“Wait.”</p><p>Stiles turned back to regard Derek curiously. The werewolf looked nervous, a bit hopeful, like he was ramping up toward something in his head. Derek stepped forward purposefully. “Stay the night at my place.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>Derek let out a little laugh at Stiles’ surprise. “Yeah,” he stated resolutely, “come stay the night. I have my car and it’s like four blocks away.”</p><p>“Uhhhhhh…”</p><p>“You’ll probably get home even later if you take a bus and miss out on more sleep,” Derek explained, “plus, I can’t imagine it would be ideal getting into some complete stranger’s car and letting them drive you home.”</p><p>Stiles had to admit, these all sounded like very valid concerns. “I <em> really </em>wouldn’t want to be a bother —”</p><p>“It’s no bother at all,” Derek stated earnestly. “Come on. I’ll be much more at ease knowing you’re on my couch rather than wondering if you got home okay.”</p><p>Looked like Stiles’ evening wasn’t quite over yet. He could vaguely hear himself making noncommittal noises, out of his comfort zone and unsure how to respond.</p><p>Derek seemed to think he was now in agreement though. “It’ll be great! Come with me,” he requested, clapping his hand down on Stiles’ shoulder along with his invitation.</p><p>Stiles had all week to get used to hearing other people’s thoughts. But this was something else. Several unbidden images suddenly flashed through his mind’s eye.</p><p>
  <em>Stiles could see himself in an unfamiliar kitchen, sitting at a table and cupping a warm mug in his hands. He had clearly made himself at home, shrugged his jacket off, and loosened his tie. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and, despite having a soft, shy look on his face, he was the picture of comfort.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stiles was now lounging serenely on a couch. He looked fresh and ready to wind down for the night. He was using a large fluffy towel to dry shower water out of his hair.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, Stiles was yawning and drifting off in a large bed. He was in a pair of silk pajamas and burrowed under a thick duvet. He had a small, content smile on his face as he slumbered peacefully, curled up on his side and hugging another pillow to himself.</em>
</p><p>Derek broke their contact with an encouraging “Let’s go” and Stiles snapped back to reality, reeling from seeing Derek’s innermost but surprisingly wholesome fantasies. Stiles was overwhelmed by the onset of a new facet to his power as well as the realization that, aside from Derek’s apparent feelings for him, he didn’t fantasize about Stiles in various states of undress, looking debauched. Rather, Derek wanted to see Stiles in his space, looking cozy, unbothered, and content.</p><p>Derek was already at the entrance of the attached carpark when he turned back to see Stiles still rooted to the spot. “Stiles?” he called out.</p><p>Stiles turned to face Derek, not sure if the alarm he felt was fully visible on his face. Derek flashed him a reassuring smile and jerked his head in the other direction, silently beckoning Stiles to follow.</p><p>Stiles could not be held accountable for the bewildered noise that came from his throat.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Since this chapter was solidly in Stiles’ POV, just wanted to clarify a few things:</p><p>When Stiles fell, Derek did in fact get up to check and make sure he was alright. Liam is just very oblivious.</p><p>Derek knew Stiles was approaching when he was talking to Braeden and Paige due to his scent.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Running on the Spot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles spends the night at Derek’s and falls even more in crisis. He asks Isaac for help.</p><p>Derek’s POV for a brief moment.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Spoken dialogue will be in quotations.<br/>Thoughts of POV character will be italicized.<br/>Thoughts that Stiles can hear will be in quotations and italicized.</p><p>The characters and premise of Teen Wolf were created by Jeff Davis and belong to MTV.</p><p>The plot for this story is heavily adapted from the TV drama Cherry Magic! 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!, which is owned by TV Tokyo and Square Enix. The drama is in turn adapted from a manga of the same name, created by Yuu Toyota.</p><p>None of this is mine. The only thing I would call my own is the desire to see this sweet, wholesome story applied to one of my favorite ships that led to me writing this.</p><p>Do not repost this work on other sites.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> What am I doing here? </em>
</p><p><em> Is it </em> really <em> okay for me to stay at Derek’s place? </em></p><p>Stiles shouldn’t have been surprised when he followed Derek through their office building’s parking garage right to a sleek, shiny, black Camaro. The car ride over had been mercifully short and not too awkward. It could have lasted a bit longer since Derek offered to pick up some takeout on the way in case Stiles was hungry. Luckily, Stiles was running on an early dinner of convenience store microwave burritos so that wasn’t at all necessary.</p><p>After parking on the street, Stiles was now standing in front of a very nice apartment building, still wrapped in his coworker’s scarf.</p><p>
  <em> What the hell should I do? Now that we’re actually here, I’m terrified. </em>
</p><p>Derek had walked up the steps toward his building’s entrance and noticed that Stiles still had not moved from his spot on the sidewalk. He turned to watch the human carefully, giving Stiles his space to whatever mini freakout he was going through.</p><p><em> Not to mention I know </em> exactly <em> how Derek feels </em> , thought Stiles, recalling <em> that </em>moment in the elevator the very same morning.</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t know what I did in a previous life to deserve this first thing in the morning… my heart feels like it’s about to beat right out of my chest!” </em>
</p><p><em> And I just happened to have seen… </em> those <em> . </em> How could Stiles forget the incredibly intimate fantasies he’d just witnessed of himself not even an hour ago? Try as he might.</p><p>Stiles managed to pull himself together and follow Derek into the building and ride the elevator up to the correct floor. He was still mostly in a daze as he couldn’t quite help but recall what he’d seen from Derek’s mind.</p><p><em> Will Derek want something from me in return? </em> Does <em> Derek want something from me? Will he want… </em> that <em> ? </em></p><p>They were now standing outside Derek’s front door as the werewolf busied himself with letting them both in. A thought occurred to Stiles that settled like a stone at the pit of his stomach; he felt his eyes widen.</p><p><em> If I don’t want to, will he force himself on me? </em> Stiles looked at Derek, who had been nothing but respectful the entire time and instantly felt guilty. He tapped his cold cheeks once to give himself some perspective. <em> No. No way. It’s rude to even think of Derek in that way. </em></p><p>“Stiles?”</p><p>Stiles looked up and tried to give his coworker and host for the evening what he hoped was an unaffected smile. He may have pulled it off since Derek just opened the door, flipped the hall lights on and flashed him a winning smile back.</p><p>
  <em> Blinding. </em>
</p><p>Derek kept holding the door open and gestured Stiles in, “Please don’t mind the mess.”</p><p><em> I have no idea what he wants out of tonight. </em> Stiles stared down at his hands resolutely. <em> But if I need to, I guess I could always read his mind. </em> This would be one of the first times he’d thought of these powers as an advantage rather than as a curse. <em> Either way, I guess I’ll manage somehow. </em></p><p>“Stiles?” Seemed like he had been lost in his own thoughts for too long again.</p><p>Stiles gripped the strap of his satchel with both hands and mentally pulled himself together. “Thanks for letting me spend the night.”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles found himself stressfully and repeatedly refolding the scarf Derek lent him. After they both set their stuff down, Derek offered him a seat on his couch and excused himself to run a bath for Stiles.</p><p><em> Mess, my ass. On what planet? </em>Stiles thought to himself, looking around the immaculate apartment. </p><p>Stiles gazed around the decent-sized, open space that made up Derek’s living room. The couch Stiles was on was a dark gray that faced a wall of windows overlooking the city. Perpendicular to this couch was a matching love seat. Both were decorated with throw pillows in reds and blues to give the space a pop of color. There were tasteful lamps near the seating area to provide dim, indirect light. There were more simple, dark-stained wood furniture deliberately placed around like the coffee and side tables, bookshelf and TV stand. The space was further broken up with the occasional painting and lively-looking houseplant.</p><p>Behind Stiles was Derek’s combination kitchen and dining room. Stiles could spy granite countertops and a stainless steel gas range from his perch. Derek’s large dining set, kitchen cabinets, and pantry were of the same dark-stained wood as the rest of his furniture.</p><p>
  <em> This apartment looks like it came out of a magazine. Pretty sure this is the most uniformly decorated space I have physically been in. </em>
</p><p>Derek may have romantic feelings for him but Stiles was feeling himself fall in love too… with his apartment.</p><p>“What kind of sexy-ass place is this?” Stiles wondered aloud to himself.</p><p>Stiles stared down at his socked feet on Derek’s area rug. Stiles could hear footsteps approaching from the hall Derek disappeared into when he noticed a few slim paperback titles he was quite familiar with stashed under the coffee table.</p><p>“Ah, sorry! Let me get those out of your way,” Derek declared, having returned and spotting what Stiles was curiously investigating. Derek grabbed the comic volumes out of Stiles’ way, along with a half-eaten bag of chips and an empty beer can. “I couldn’t really stop snacking or put the comic books down last night,” Derek confessed as he moved the clutter out of the seating area.</p><p>In an effort to feel less awkward in this situation, Stiles blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I like those too.”</p><p>Derek looked pleasantly surprised at Stiles initiating the conversation. “Really?”</p><p>“I usually get the non-wolfsbane beer since I don’t need it,” Stiles shared, shifting slightly, “Plus, wolfsbane makes me hallucinate.”</p><p>Derek just continued to watch him so Stiles continued. “I buy two packs of any limited run snacks I like. And… I also really enjoy the current books on <em> Justice League Dark </em>.”</p><p>Derek’s face lit up. “Same here!” He picked up the stack of comic volumes again and moved to the couch, sitting on the opposite end as Stiles. “The plot is <em> chilling </em> and well done, the action scenes are dynamic…”</p><p>“And the way Hewitt and Bryant write Batman and Constantine’s interactions are great,” Stiles supplies, the conversation turning to a topic he enjoyed and felt safe in. “It’s like they’re in a competition to see who can out-grump the other. Batman is, well, <em> Batman </em>. While Constantine is…” Stiles pauses briefly, thinking of how best to continue.</p><p>“Shamelessly awful!” Derek interjects and they both laugh at his description, “But in the <em> best </em> way!”</p><p>They both sat in the shared moment for a while until Derek turned to Stiles and asked, “So you’re a DC Comics fan?”</p><p>Stiles nodded in response. Unexpectedly finding something in common with the man who was just his colleague for the past seven years helped to loosen him up a bit. He continued, “You too huh? I wasn’t expecting that.”</p><p>Derek hummed in question and his eyebrows twitched as if he wanted to ask Stiles what he meant.</p><p>“Ah, nothing,” Stiles stated in response, “Don’t mind me, I’m just babbling.” He didn’t really want to end up rambling and accidentally offend his host for the evening.</p><p>
  <em> I can’t believe that this guy, who is basically sexiness personified, is into the same things I like. I didn’t really think we had that many things in common. </em>
</p><p>An alarm chimed gently through the open doorway leading out of the kitchen and Stiles turned toward the noise curiously. Derek appeared to know what that meant since he got up and picked up a bundle he previously carried into the room.</p><p>“Go ahead and take the first bath,” Derek stated. He offered the bundle to Stiles and continued, “Here’s a change of clothes. Just leave your jacket and slacks on a hanger and drop your other clothes in the basket outside the door. I’ll get them washed and steamed for tomorrow.”</p><p>Stiles stood and hesitantly reached for the clothes, which were a pair of silk pajamas in a deep red. Stiles ran the material through his fingers, somewhat distractedly. “These are silk, right? They feel really nice.”</p><p>“Don’t they?” Derek agreed and moved to hold the material in both his hands. Stiles felt Derek’s thumb brush the outside of his palm.</p><p>
  <em> “Do I really deserve this treat?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Huh? </em>
</p><p>Stiles was unexpectedly pulled into yet another montage of Derek’s thoughts. Once again, Stiles saw flashes of several images of himself, dressed in the very same set, relaxed and bashful, all while toweling dampness from the bath out of his hair.</p><p>
  <em> “I can’t believe I get to see Stiles in the PJs I bought on impulse just because I thought they’d look cute on him. That’ll be a sight to —” </em>
</p><p>Stiles pulled the pajamas to himself and broke their contact. He stared down at the clothing, now wanting nothing to do with them.</p><p>
  <em> I-I really don’t want to wear these. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles emerged from his bath not twenty minutes later; fresh, clean, and dressed in the sleep clothes he was provided. He stared bemusedly at his palms peeking out from under his sleeves.</p><p>
  <em> Why do these fit me perfectly? </em>
</p><p>He was now back in the main sitting room where Derek had apparently been busy getting Stiles’ sleeping situation sorted. The couch cushions were stacked on one side and the pull-out futon was made ready for use with bed linens, spare pillows, and a duvet.</p><p>“Thanks for letting me go first,” Stiles stated, announcing his presence.</p><p>Derek had removed his jacket at some point while he worked and was only clad in his remaining office clothes. Stiles noticed how Derek’s vest emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The werewolf turned to face Stiles after he was satisfied with the prepared bedding. </p><p>Derek stopped moving entirely when he focused on Stiles, his arms hanging at his sides and his face carefully blank. Stiles wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light or if Derek’s usually green eyes briefly flashed a beta gold.</p><p>Stiles shifted unsurely. “D-Derek?”</p><p>Derek looked away deliberately. “My turn for a bath then,” he gestured toward the made up couch, “Go ahead and get comfortable. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you need more blankets or pillows.”</p><p>With one last parting smile, Derek exited into the hall, shutting the door behind him. The soft thud of his departing footsteps soon faded away.</p><p>Stiles lay on his futon, which probably had to be the softest guest bed he’d ever found himself in.</p><p><em> I have no idea how I’m supposed to react to any of this, especially since I can read his mind. </em> Stiles heaved a frustrated sigh. <em> If it was easy for me to be around other people then I wouldn’t be a </em> thirty year-old virgin <em> . </em></p><p>Stiles continued tossing and turning, his body tired from the day he had but his mind too wired and confused to allow him to settle.</p><p>
  <em> Right now, I really only have one option. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles ended up settling on a position directly facing the wall when he heard the door leading to the main hallway open again, announcing Derek’s return. Stiles tried to breathe deeply and evenly while willing his heartbeat to slow down while he feigned sleep.</p><p>“Oh. He’s already asleep,” Stiles heard Derek mutter, some notes of disappointment bleeding into his voice. </p><p><em> I’m sorry. But I </em> am <em> just pretending. </em></p><p>Stiles wasn’t sure if Derek could tell he was faking and was just being polite or if he was actually pulling this off. But Stiles couldn’t just stop now.</p><p>“Good night, Stiles. Sweet dreams,” Stiles heard Derek whisper. Stiles could hear Derek carefully shuffling away and making as little noise as possible while he went to bed himself. Stiles felt the tension in his body melt away as he got ready to settle in for the night.</p><p>The shuffling stopped.</p><p>The sounds of Derek’s movement resumed but they sounded like they were getting closer.</p><p>Like maybe Derek was <em> approaching</em>.</p><p>
  <em> Huh? What? </em>
</p><p>Those sure were footsteps and they sure were getting closer.</p><p>
  <em> Why is he coming over here?! </em>
</p><p>Stiles was using all his willpower to not spring up in alarm. He squeezed his eyes shut and remained still. Stiles could now vaguely feel Derek moving overhead.</p><p>
  <em> Oh god. He’s too close! </em>
</p><p>Stiles could feel Derek’s body heat as he leaned over him.</p><p>
  <em> Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no! </em>
</p><p>Despite preparing for the worst, Stiles did not feel Derek’s touch. Instead, Stiles could hear some movement by the side table next to the wall he was directly facing. He remembered belatedly that Derek had set his phone down there and plugged it in upon their arrival.</p><p>It sounded like Derek had lingered for a few seconds before he began to quietly move away again, determined not to bother or wake Stiles.</p><p>The soft click of the door signaling Derek’s departure allowed Stiles to crack open an eye. Sure enough, Derek’s phone and charging cable were gone. Stiles quickly turned on his back and heaved a relieved sigh.</p><p>
  <em> That was terrifying! </em>
</p><p>Stiles scrubbed his face with his hands, relief spreading through his whole body. Then guilt.</p><p>
  <em> I’m sorry for thinking you would force yourself on me, Derek! </em>
</p><p>Still feeling very restless, Stiles tossed and turned again. He knew he was going to be in for a restless night.</p><p>
  <em> After what just happened…  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>“… I don’t think I’m falling asleep anytime soon”, Derek declared to no one but himself, sitting upright against his headboard.</p><p>Derek recalled the jackrabbit-like heartbeat he has come to associate with Stiles. His scent always seems to contain some notes of anxiety, apparently even in his sleep, Derek noted. There was one thing in particular he couldn’t quite get his mind off though:</p><p>“It is unfair just how cute he looks when he’s asleep,” Derek groaned to himself. He prided himself in being a werewolf of control and following his mom’s teachings of respecting everyone, regardless of romantic interest. But it was taking every ounce of his willpower to stay in this room and not go back out there and just watch how sweet and innocent Stiles looked as he slept.</p><p>Derek rubbed his face tiredly and grumbled. This was going to be a long night.</p><p>True enough, Derek couldn’t quite fall asleep so he decided to watch some late night TV. When that could barely hold his attention, he moved on to some light calisthenics. Finally, he grabbed an extra large lint brush from his side table and proceeded to delint every fabric surface in his room. He had done his sheets before moving on to the suit he would be wearing for work the next day. He’d worked through the rest of his suits and some cable-knit sweaters before he finally wound down and was able to pass out for the night.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles hadn’t fared too well either. Between tossing and turning, he ended up laying out his newly washed and steamed clothing for use again tomorrow. He also helped himself to some water from the tap in Derek’s kitchen. He had knocked out at some point because before he knew it, he was waking due to daylight streaming through the gaps between Derek’s living room curtains.</p><p>Stiles propped himself up on an elbow as he blinked back into consciousness. Blearily, he could hear some activity coming from Derek’s kitchen. Someone was cooking and it smelled heavenly.</p><p>Stiles peered over the back of the couch and found Derek, dressed for the day in a shirt and slacks, slicing mushrooms. </p><p><em> How is he </em> this <em> fresh and energetic this early in the morning? </em></p><p>The werewolf felt some eyes on him and turned to face Stiles, offering a bright smile. “Good morning.”</p><p>Stiles figured he shouldn’t continue lazing about while Derek was clearly getting on with his day. Stiles scrambled onto his knees so he could face Derek properly. “Good morning,” he greeted back.</p><p>“Did the pull-out couch treat you okay?” Derek asked.</p><p>“It was great,” Stiles responded. He hoped the half-truth didn’t register. Technically he <em> did </em> have a comfortable bed to sleep on. There were just other factors that contributed to his sleepless night. “This was probably the softest guest bed I’ve ever crashed in… definitely softer than mine. Like, <em> five </em> times softer, at least,” Stiles rambled.</p><p>“Five times?” Derek’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. Stiles would normally think he was being ridiculed but his interactions with Derek from the past twenty-four hours tell him that, while he was amused, it didn’t come from anywhere malicious.</p><p>“You’ll have breakfast right?” Derek asked, turning back to face his kitchen counter and busying himself with a knife.</p><p>Stiles felt his stomach rumble. “Um, yes please.”</p><p>“Do you prefer maple or spicy sausage?” Derek asked, holding up two parcels wrapped in butcher paper. He stared expectantly.</p><p>Stiles continued to sit and think before he gave an answer. He was a guest at Derek’s and he’d certainly prefer to have the werewolf call the shots. But Derek did ask so Stiles might as well state his preference. “Maple, please.”</p><p>“Sounds good,” Derek replied, already using his knife to cut the twine off the package of maple sausages.</p><p>Derek prepared quite a spread to share with Stiles. The mushrooms had gone into a frittata with cherry tomatoes, garlic, and spinach topped with cheese on a cast iron skillet. Derek had fried up the sausage into patties and made some french toast topped with whipped butter. He rounded off their meal with some bowls of cut up fruit and a french press full of dark roast coffee.</p><p>Derek fixed Stiles a plate, piling it high with a bit of everything. He had enough food to satisfy a growing adolescent werewolf, Stiles noted, being reminded of just how much his childhood friend Scott ate back in high school.</p><p>Stiles ate a forkful of the veggie frittata and moaned dramatically. “This is <em> so </em> good!” he announced after swallowing. “This could be served at like a bed and breakfast or something. You’re an amazing cook, Derek.”</p><p>Derek’s smile lit up his face and the tips of his ears turned pink. “You are too kind, Stiles,” he replied, “but it’s really nothing special.”</p><p>Derek grabbed the bottle of maple syrup and held his other hand out. “Pass me your plate?”</p><p>Stiles obeyed, uttering his thanks and holding out his dish as Derek began to pour syrup over his french toast. Derek used his free hand to hold the plate steady and his fingers connected with Stiles’.</p><p>
  <em> “Looks like Stiles does like good, old-fashioned breakfast food.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles’ eyes flicked up to look at Derek. The werewolf’s full concentration was focused on drizzling syrup generously over Stiles’ breakfast.</p><p>
  <em> “My research was right after all.” </em>
</p><p>Derek set the bottle down and released Stiles’ plate and returned to his own meal.</p><p>
  <em> What research? </em>
</p><p>Shrugging it off after being made aware of just how hungry he was, Stiles cut his french toast into bite size pieces and topped them with fruit from his bowl and dug in. He’d caught Derek’s eye as he ate and the man looked fairly satisfied by just how much Stiles seemed to enjoy his meal.</p><p>“I’m glad you enjoy the food though,” Derek stated, continuing their conversation. </p><p>“It’s amazing that you were able to cook all these dishes today,” Stiles agreed. It had been a while since he enjoyed a nice, home-cooked breakfast since Stiles mostly survived on meals for people on the go. “Pretty sure this is the first proper meal I’ve had in a while that wasn’t a convenience store microwave burrito.”</p><p>Derek seemed to consider his words carefully and, after licking some excess syrup off his fork, stated, “Do you want to just swing by everyday and eat here then?”</p><p>Stiles startled and a bite of sausage almost went down the wrong pipe. He took his time chewing his mouthful of food and slowly looked up to see Derek watching him patiently.</p><p>Stiles toyed with the sleeves of his silk pajamas nervously. “Oh. I couldn’t… do that… I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose…”</p><p>Derek’s face broke into a grin as he let out a laugh. “Don’t worry, I am totally kidding!”</p><p>Stiles continued to stare wide-eyed at Derek until he had the presence of mind to crack a smile. He absently reached for his coffee cup, took a sip, and burned his tongue in the process. “It’s hot,” he stated dumbly.</p><p>Derek observed him over the rim of his own mug. “Careful now, don’t want you to burn yourself.”</p><p>Stiles thought it better to return to scarfing down his meal. <em> Oh god. I can’t hold a proper conversation because I’m too freaking nervous. </em></p><p>Stiles resolved that he had to seek help. <em> I’ll have to ask </em> him <em> about this. </em></p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>The rest of Stiles’ day was a bit of a daze after he and Derek left for work from his apartment. The day had ended up fairly busy so Stiles was somewhat relieved when he and Derek didn’t cross paths again. The werewolf was still out on a sales call by the time Stiles was leaving.</p><p>To properly make sense of the situation, Stiles had reached out to the one person he hoped could help. He added in the incentive of promised beer and grilled meat to sweeten the deal.</p><p>Isaac Lahey was a young werewolf who Stiles met after moving down to LA for college. Funnily enough, Isaac was born and raised in Nor-Cal too; Fresno to Stiles’ Beacon Hills. Isaac was a foster kid who moved down south after aging out of his group home. Stiles ended up meeting and befriending him when they both joined their university’s tabletop gaming club. Though Isaac was somewhat prickly and defensive, he and Stiles managed to find kindred spirits in each other; they were both introverts who had trouble relating to other people.</p><p>Isaac was a very talented writer. He managed to get short stories published in their university’s literary magazine. He also sent out manuscripts of his novel to several publishers in their final year of school and managed to catch the interest of several. Shortly after graduation, Isaac was a published author and a highly regarded romance novelist.</p><p>Both human and werewolf ended up meeting at their usual barbecue spot in Koreatown. After a few beers and different cuts of meat, Stiles just managed to finish catching his friend up on his predicament while he waited for his marinated chicken to cook.</p><p>Isaac peered at Stiles carefully over the rim of his pint glass. Stiles stared back. Despite the body heat from other patrons in the packed restaurant and the heat from the grills, Isaac refused to remove his scarf. He hummed thoughtfully.</p><p>“So, just to make sure I am understanding you correctly,” Isaac stated in a measured voice, “Because you were a virgin when you turned 30, you gained mind-reading powers and became a… wizard, was it?” Stiles gave a short nod.</p><p>“And just completely out of nowhere, you learned that some guy in your office likes you,” Isaac continued carefully, gauging Stiles’ reaction on the accuracy of his statement. Stiles gave an even more pronounced nod.</p><p>Isaac adjusted his scarf and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. Stiles ended up leaning forward as well. Isaac fixed him with a look and asked, “Is your job <em> really </em> that hard?”</p><p>Stiles was not expecting that. “What?”</p><p>“If it’s healthier coping mechanisms you need, I can introduce you to a therapist I know,” Isaac offered.</p><p>“Oh no!” Stiles interrupted, “No, nope, pretty sure it’s not because I’ve gone crazy from stress.”</p><p>“Reading minds though?” Isaac asked, sounding unimpressed.</p><p>Stiles exhaled wearily. “Okay, yes. I <em> get </em> why you don’t believe me. But can you, <em> a werewolf</em>,” Stiles stressed this part, “suspend disbelief for a second and humor me? Because I’m really worried here.”</p><p>Stiles was hoping he wouldn’t have to give specifics but most things rarely went his way. “Well, okay, take this morning for example…”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles sat on Derek’s couch as he got dressed for work in his freshly laundered clothes. He finished doing up his tie and stood to grab his suit jacket…</p><p>…and ended up stepping directly into Derek’s space. The werewolf seemed unfazed, actually reaching up to adjust Stiles’ tie. “Your tie is a <em> tiny </em> bit crooked,” Derek muttered as he worked.</p><p><em> “Stiles looks like an angel when he sleeps,” </em> Derek thought dreamily, <em> “I should have taken his picture.” </em></p><p><em> “No, you shouldn’t, Derek,” </em> he admonished himself. <em> “That’s creepy.” </em></p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>As they were about to depart Derek’s apartment, Stiles spotted the scarf he wore the previous night, neatly folded and hanging from the back of a chair. He picked it up and held it aloft to Derek. “I’ll have this cleaned and return it after,” he offered.</p><p>Derek smiled and darted forward, “Don’t worry about it, not necessary at all.” He grabbed hold of the scarf as well as Stiles’ hand.</p><p>
  <em> “What a waste.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles’ eyes grew large.</p><p>
  <em> A waste?! </em>
</p><p>Derek draped the scarf over the back of the couch instead and turned back to face Stiles. “Feel free to stay over anytime.”</p><p>“Oh. Um, thanks.”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>“…<em> that </em> kind of stuff kept happening!” Stiles concluded, feeling exhausted just recounting the day’s events to Isaac. “I don’t know how I can ever face him again! I don’t want to quit my job and our office isn’t <em> that </em> big!”</p><p>“Calm down,” Isaac replied, setting his lips in a thin line. “For argument’s sake, let’s pretend all this is true.”</p><p>“It is,” Stiles muttered. Isaac rolled his eyes.</p><p>“What did you want to run by me?” Isaac asked, “How exactly do I fit into all this?”</p><p>Stiles pouted, he thought that answer obvious. “Well, aren’t you basically the master of love and relationships?”</p><p>Isaac scoffed. “I’m not a master.”</p><p>“Well if you weren’t, you couldn’t have been this successful with publishing your novels,” Stiles replied. “I told you about how many crying breaks I had to take while reading <em> Lone Wolf </em> and <em> Breakup Blue Moon</em>.”</p><p>Isaac subtly shifted in his seat. “Please don’t list my works out loud,” he requested, darting his eyes around to see if anyone heard.</p><p>Stiles desperately clasped his hands together on the table. “<em>Please </em> tell me how to handle this!”</p><p>Isaac raised an eyebrow, “How to handle it?”</p><p>“You’re the only person I can ask!” Stiles groaned, slumping down onto the table and narrowly missing the rice paper. He raised his head and fixed Isaac with a look. He now had a sauce stain on his cheek. “C’mon. What do I do now?”</p><p>Isaac hummed thoughtfully. “Well,” he began, “I would ignore him.”</p><p>Stiles was anything but satisfied with this answer. “<em>What?</em>” He slumped down again.</p><p>“I still don’t see what you’re worried about,” Isaac explained, “but the only thing that matters here is how <em> you </em> feel about him and what kind of relationship <em> you want </em> with him.”</p><p>Stiles sat rigidly, slowly processing Isaac’s words while the werewolf had seemingly moved on, now helping himself to the cooked meat on the grill.</p><p>“Okay. What <em> I </em> feel,” Stiles echoed.</p><p>After swallowing his mouthful of food, Isaac continued. “Personally, I don’t recommend falling in love with someone. If you’re lonely, get a cat.”</p><p>That effectively shifted Stiles’ attention away from the subject and he perked up. He leaned forward on the table. “How is Clementine, by the way?”</p><p>Isaac was giddy with excitement as well. “You wanna see her?” he asked, already fishing out his phone. He pulled up some recent photos of a ginger cat.</p><p>“She’s gotten so big,” Stiles muttered as he swiped through the photos. He hadn’t noticed that he was also touching Isaac’s fingers until he heard his friend’s voice echo through his head.</p><p>
  <em> “I was talking like I even knew what I was saying just now.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles looked directly at Isaac.</p><p><em> “I can’t believe Stiles is asking </em> me <em> for romantic advice. After all, I’m a virgin too.” </em></p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What?” Isaac parroted.</p><p>“Nothing,” Stiles withdrew his arm and Isaac focused his attention on the photos of his cat. </p><p>Stiles managed to keep it together until he was in the backseat of his Lyft to freak out about the sudden revelation about his friend.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles found himself at work again several days later, still contemplating his problem and his conversation with Isaac, feeling like he didn’t have a proper solution.</p><p>
  <em> I went to Isaac for advice and instead, I learned something I didn’t need to know about him. </em>
</p><p>Stiles let his eyes wander around the bullpen and spotted Kira. He recalled his seemingly innocent conversation with Greenberg that may have started this whole mess.</p><p>
  <em> If it was Kira who liked me, would I be this worried? Would I be dwelling on it this much? </em>
</p><p>Stiles snapped out of his trance to realize Kira was now staring back at him, looking unsure and puzzled. He hastily broke eye contact.</p><p>
  <em> Nope, pretty sure I would still be this freaked out. </em>
</p><p>Stiles was vaguely aware of someone lingering near his desk.</p><p>
  <em> In terms of romantic experience, I am dead last. The bottom of the barrel. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do. </em>
</p><p>“Stilinski…” Greenberg began, startling Stiles out of his thoughts.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Remember those documents you put together the other day?”</p><p>How could he forget? “Yes, of course. Is there a problem?”</p><p>“No, no problem,” Greenberg continued, dragging his own chair over and settling into it. “Did you work on them yourself?”</p><p>Stiles wasn’t ashamed to admit he got help when he needed it. “Actually, Derek Hale helped me work on it.”</p><p>Greenberg gave an almost relieved laugh. “I knew it. It looked a little too well done for something you put together.”</p><p>Stiles clenched his jaw shut so he wouldn’t be tempted to say anything. He’d consider putting his foot down and not taking on any more of Greenberg’s work but he’d feel pretty guilty if the department’s performance suffers in the slightest. “Okay.” Stiles lowered his eyes to his desk.</p><p>Greenberg no longer had his attention on him; instead, he was staring at the other end of the room. “Hey Hale! Derek!” he called out, frantically waving the man in question over.</p><p>Stiles turned in his seat and resisted the urge to groan out loud. Derek looked over curiously after hearing his name. He began to make his way over followed closely by his trainee, Liam Dunbar.</p><p>
  <em> Seriously? Not Derek again already. I still don’t know how to deal with all of this. </em>
</p><p>Greenberg was standing, ready to meet Derek when he hoisted Stiles out of his seat as well. “It sounds like you helped Stilinski out the other day and really saved our asses,” Greenberg stated in greeting when Derek was close enough.</p><p>Derek regarded Greenberg carefully. “Hmm?”</p><p>“There was nothing but praise for the data you helped him put together,” Stiles knew firsthand just how inappropriately handsy Greenberg could get but it was out in full force today when he grabbed both of Derek’s forearms unprompted.</p><p>“Derek, is that what you’ve been doing?” interjected Liam, “You’re already so busy!”</p><p>Derek smoothly extended his arm and gently nudged Liam back out of the conversation.</p><p>“I didn’t do much,” was Derek’s only reply to Greenberg, his face carefully neutral.</p><p>Greenberg turned to Stiles again. “Have you thanked Hale properly yet?” his tone was slightly accusatory. Everyone’s eyes were now on him.</p><p>Stiles shrunk away from the scrutiny. “Uhmm… not really…”</p><p>Greenberg turned back to Derek. “Have him buy you lunch one day or something,” Greenberg stage-whispered.</p><p>
  <em> Please don’t say that. </em>
</p><p>Derek had been watching Stiles out of the corner of his eye for a moment then turned back to Greenberg. “I <em> really </em> didn’t do much,” he insisted calmly. He looked at Stiles and addressed him directly, “Right?”</p><p>Stiles startled. He wasn’t sure why Derek was denying having a hand in the finished product but it didn’t sit right with Stiles claiming all the credit for himself. “Actually, Derek ended up helping me quite a bit.”</p><p>“Right?!” Greenberg practically yelled, drawing attention from the surrounding desks, “Can’t get this guy to churn anything decent out without a proper nudge.” As if to emphasize his point, he used an index finger to poke Stiles in the belly. Stiles flinched away as a reflex. Greenberg continued, “Think you can handle the sales data for Calaveras Corp. too?”</p><p>It wouldn’t be a proper interaction with Greenberg if he wasn’t piling something onto Stiles’ to-do list. “I’ll do my best,” Stiles replied.</p><p>Stiles felt Derek’s eyes on him, his face unreadable. “Personally…” the werewolf began, turning fully toward Greenberg, his eyes stern, “I trust Stiles and the quality of his work.”</p><p>Stiles couldn’t help but stare at Derek. So did Greenberg. Apparently, no one has responded this way to his backhanded ribbing before. “Huh?”</p><p>Derek stepped closer, looking Greenberg right in his eyes. “Stiles completes his job conscientiously.” From him, it was undebatable; just a statement of fact.</p><p>“D-does he?”</p><p>Derek leaned forward conspiratorially. “You had a hand in training him, didn’t you?” Derek asked. He waited for Greenberg to respond in the affirmative before he continued, “So wouldn’t <em> you </em> know that better than anyone?”</p><p>Greenberg could no longer meet his eye. “I-I guess so…”</p><p>“In that case, it may be good if Stiles heard it from you every once in a while,” Derek concluded.</p><p>Greenberg chuckled nervously. “Yeah…”</p><p>Stiles stared at Derek. He was still just as confused as ever about the man but he couldn’t help the feelings of appreciation blooming in his chest.</p><p>“We’re gonna head on out to a sales call then,” Derek stated, side-stepping Greenberg and beckoning Liam along. “See you later.”</p><p>“We’ll be back!” Liam declared, trailing after Derek.</p><p>Both Stiles and Greenberg watched the duo go. Once they were out the doors, Greenberg turned toward Stiles. “You’ve got a good colleague in him!”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p><em> The truth is, I </em> do <em> think Derek is a genuinely good and decent guy. </em></p><p>Stiles continued to contemplate their previous interaction as he kept busy througout the day.</p><p>
  <em> He’s good at his job, he’s kind, and honestly, he’s fun to talk to.  That’s all basically true. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But… I have absolutely no idea what I want to do about him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The only option here, really, is to ignore him, like Isaac said. He hasn’t actually told me that he likes me. </em>
</p><p>Stiles pondered his interactions with Derek from the past few days. He was trudging back from the conference room, about ready to head out when he settled on a decision.</p><p>
  <em> As far as I’m concerned, I don’t know anything and I haven’t noticed. I’m his colleague who likes the same snacks and the same comic books. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yeah, I’ll go with that. </em>
</p><p>Stiles was almost at his desk when he noticed someone with his back to him, standing right by his chair. At this point, Stiles knew who that dark hair and those broad shoulders belonged to.</p><p>Derek appeared to have sensed his presence, since he turned and quirked his lips into a smile. “Good evening.” Stiles nodded in greeting.</p><p>“Are you still working?” Derek asked, his eyes on the binder in Stiles’ hands.</p><p>Stiles looked down at the item as well. “Oh. No. I was about to head out after I put this away.”</p><p>“I see,” Derek replied, apparently ending their exchange. However, he didn’t leave. He continued to linger by Stiles’ desk and politely perused the little trinkets and figurines Stiles used as decoration.</p><p>
  <em> Maybe he did believe some part of what Greenberg said after all? Do I need to thank him properly somehow?</em>
</p><p>Stiles moved closer, eventually reaching his own desk. He’d just set his belongings down when Derek nudged something into his field of vision. It was an expanding file folder. “Here.”</p><p>“W-what’s this?” Stiles asked.</p><p>“You were asked to handle the documents for Calaveras, right?” Stiles nodded. “This is the data I had,” Derek gestured toward the folder, “You’re welcome to use it.”</p><p>Of all the reasons why Derek would linger around Stiles’ desk, he didn’t expect this.”What? Are you sure?”</p><p>Derek smiled at him encouragingly. “Of course. Colleagues should help each other after all.”</p><p>Stiles felt a lightness in his chest he hadn’t felt in a while. This problem may be fixing itself after all. “Colleagues,” he repeated.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Stiles nodded rapidly, “Y-yeah, you’re right.” He meekly returned Derek’s smile.</p><p>
  <em> We’re colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. Derek said it himself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That’s how it should be. </em>
</p><p>Derek extended the folder toward Stiles once again. Stiles received it and uttered his thanks.</p><p>But Stiles hadn’t grabbed it securely enough, which resulted in the papers contained inside to spill out onto his feet. Stiles yelped and flailed wildly, trying to stop the remaining contents from falling out. He quickly looked at Derek, “I’m sorry!”</p><p>Derek smiled easily and chuckled. “It’s okay,” he assured Stiles and crouched down to begin collecting the fallen documents. Stiles followed suit.</p><p>“These go in a certain order so hold that open while I sort them out?” Derek proposed, pointing toward the folder still in Stiles’ hands. The human nodded in understanding and did as he was told.</p><p>Derek started to sort through the sheets by their feet, muttering to himself. He wedged his fingers into a gap in the file, brushing Stiles’ fingers with his own.</p><p>
  <em> “He accepted my data.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles turned to look at Derek who was focused on the loose bits of paper.</p><p>
  <em> “I’m so glad to be of use to him.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I should have done more though…” </em>
</p><p>Derek used both hands to gather the remaining piles of paper, breaking contact temporarily. He grabbed on to the same spot on the folder, reconnecting him to Stiles.</p><p>
  <em> “That doesn’t really matter now. I just want to see Stiles.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles was still somehow surprised at just how earnest people were in their inner voice. Derek was no exception.</p><p>
  <em> “I want to hear his voice, be around him.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Just once I want to see him happy… like, smiling a truly, genuinely happy smile.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Stiles won’t want anything more than this.” </em>
</p><p>Derek broke contact briefly again, grabbing the last few papers left.</p><p>
  <em> “If it means I can be by his side… then I’ll just be his colleague.” </em>
</p><p>Derek looked up and met Stiles’ gaze briefly. The corners of the werewolf’s lips quirked up in what was barely a smile. He closed the expanding folder and secured the clasp and uttered “That should do it” before rising to his feet.</p><p>Stiles remained crouched down, once again reeling from his colleague’s thoughts. Thoughts from this decent, kind man who was apparently willing to put what he wanted on a back-burner for the sake of Stiles’ comfort and happiness. “Derek…” Stiles couldn’t help but mumble.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Derek, I’m sorry.” Stiles wasn’t quite sure what he was apologizing for. But that was what he felt he needed to say in that moment.</p><p>Derek leaned down once again to speak to Stiles directly. “You don’t need to apologize,” he replied easily. “It was an accident; no harm, no foul.”</p><p>He handed the secured folder back to Stiles. “Here.” Stiles received the item, holding onto it firmly this time, still on his perch on the floor.</p><p>Derek went ahead and collected his bag and turned to face Stiles again. “Well, good night,” he offered a small wave and a parting smile before he walked away and out the entrance.</p><p>Stiles stared at the files in his hands. He thought back to his previous “decision” on how to deal with Derek. It just no longer seemed acceptable or appropriate. “I’m the worst.”</p><p>
  <em> How could I just ignore him then? I get scared of his feelings and try to cut and run then lean on him whenever it works for me. </em>
</p><p><em> Derek has always been nice to me. He’s always been considerate of me. He </em> is <em> serious about me. </em></p><p>Stiles ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He stared back at the folder Derek left for him. It seemed a lot more valuable than just data now.</p><p>
  <em> “If it means I can be by his side… then I’ll just be his colleague.” </em>
</p><p><em> It’s not right for me to just feel relieved and move on after making him say that. I </em> can’t <em> ignore him. </em></p><p>In a rare moment in his life, Stiles felt resolute. He rose from his crouch and deposited Derek’s files on his desk, for a task that could be started tomorrow. He grabbed his phone and the strap of his satchel and was on the move before he realized it. He was running, his feet carrying him out the Nemeton entrance and down the hall to the elevator bay.</p><p>Stiles reached his destination as the doors from a lift were starting to close, the light from inside slowly disappearing from view. Stiles wasn’t stressing, second-guessing, or overanalyzing anything. He was just acting, consequences be damned. He put on an extra burst of speed and got to the elevator in time, wedging his fingers in the gap between the doors and causing them to open again.</p><p>Stiles was face-to-face with Derek. The werewolf probably heard him coming but he still looked surprised and dumbfounded. Stiles breathed heavily as he braced himself against the elevator doorframe. He took a deep breath and met Derek’s gaze.</p><p>“Stiles?” Derek uttered his name. He looked so open and hopeful.</p><p>Now that he was here, the nerves were starting to settle back in. “Um, listen…” Stiles started.</p><p>“Okay,” Derek agreed, urging him on.</p><p>It was now or never. “Do you want to get dinner or something?”</p><p>If Stiles thought Derek looked hopeful before, it was nothing compared to the look on his face now.</p><p>“What?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to everyone who took the time to review the first chapter! I really hope y’all are liking this so far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Call Out In A Trembling Voice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek’s dinner arrangements do not go as planned. </p><p>Isaac goes through a crisis of his own.</p><p>A moment of embarrassment and anxiety brings Stiles and Derek closer together.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Spoken dialogue will be in quotations.<br/>Thoughts of POV character will be italicized.<br/>Thoughts that Stiles can hear will be in quotations and italicized.</p><p>The characters and premise of Teen Wolf were created by Jeff Davis and belong to MTV.</p><p>The plot for this story is heavily adapted from the TV drama Cherry Magic! 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!, which is owned by TV Tokyo and Square Enix. The drama is in turn adapted from a manga of the same name, created by Yuu Toyota.</p><p>None of this is mine. The only thing I would call my own is the desire to see this sweet, wholesome story applied to one of my favorite ships that led to me writing this.</p><p>Do not repost this work on other sites.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> I </em> can’t <em> ignore him. </em></p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Derek exited the doors of Nemeton, headed home but not quite able to wind down yet. His thoughts were full of his recent interaction with Stiles.</p><p>Derek thought back to earlier in the day, recalling the moment he stuck up for Stiles with Greenberg. It was one thing for him to pass his work off to Stiles. It was another thing for Stiles to be willing to take it on. But Derek wanted no part in denigrating Stiles despite the hard work and effort he put into the job and he sure as hell wasn’t going to enable Greenberg’s attempts to do so.</p><p>Despite Stiles agreeing to do more of Greenberg’s work, it was a relief to know that it was for Calaveras Corp., which was one of the accounts Derek handled. Before he and Liam even left the office for their sales call, Derek had already resolved to pull whatever data he had to help Stiles with the task.</p><p>But since Stiles wasn’t working on the Calaveras data that night, Derek didn’t really have a casual, plausible reason to stick around. And asking Stiles out in either a platonic or romantic way out of the blue would probably cause the already anxious human to become more nervous. So Derek said his goodbyes and was now headed home.</p><p>Derek paused just outside the office doors and took a deep, steadying breath. He knew that despite leaving Stiles to his own devices here, Derek would still have a reminder of the human at home — in the piles of bedding and clothes with the human’s scent, folded neatly in a corner, that Derek couldn’t bring himself to wash. Each time he passed by and got a whiff of the anxious but sweet smell, Derek couldn’t help but recall how cozy Stiles looked in his pajamas. Or how satisfied he looked after eating the meal Derek prepared.</p><p>Derek regained his bearings and continued down the hall toward the elevator bay and called a lift to take him to the lobby. The upper levels of the building appear to clear out earlier so Derek found himself as the only passenger heading down.</p><p>Derek was trying to distract himself by keeping busy on his phone when he first heard it. The steady approach of rapid footfalls. The quick, nervous heartbeat that was even faster after a moment of exertion. Then a distinct, instantly recognizable scent of lemon, honey, and cinnamon hit him. Long, pale fingers managed to stop the elevator doors from closing but Derek knew who the person was before he saw them.</p><p>“Stiles?”</p><p>The human had his arms braced on either side of the once again open doors, looking both desperate and breathless. “Um, listen…” Stiles managed to say between pants.</p><p>Derek encouraged Stiles to continue. Maybe Stiles wanted to know if Derek would be willing to help with compiling the new data? Maybe he needed a ride home? His answer to both was yes. </p><p>Did Stiles not want Derek’s help and preferred to put together an analysis himself? Derek just wanted to help Stiles however he could and if the human thought the best help would be for Derek to stay out of his way, he could respect that as well. </p><p>Did Stiles know that Derek had been pining after him for a while now and wanted him to keep his distance? Derek’s world would start crashing down around him but if that’s what made Stiles happy, then he would respect his wishes.</p><p>Instead, what came out of Stiles’ mouth was something Derek had only ever dreamed about. He may have asked Stiles to repeat himself before his mind went perfectly, blissfully blank.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to get dinner or something?”</p><p>This was probably the longest stretch of silent eye-contact Stiles has held with another person other than his dad or maybe even Isaac. Derek’s lips parted in surprise and Stiles was momentarily distracted by his slightly larger two front teeth. Stiles straightened up and dropped his arms from where they were braced on the elevator doors.</p><p>
  <em> What? No reaction? Did I break him? </em>
</p><p>Stiles didn’t have much time to dwell on that when the elevator doors tried to close again, this time with him in the way. He was jolted out of his staredown with Derek when the metal doors hit him on both shoulders simultaneously. He was more surprised than hurt when he released an undignified yelp and stumbled back out of the lift.</p><p>Derek followed him out, concern written all over his face with an arm extended, as if wanting to physically check Stiles over for any injury. “Are you okay?” he asked, apparently no longer frozen and having regained his ability to speak.</p><p>Stiles did what he usually did when embarrassed, which was to brush off concern and try to recover as quickly as possible. “Oh, yup. Yep. I’m good,” he replied, trying to look unaffected. “I guess I didn’t know if you already had plans? It’s okay, we can go some other time…”</p><p>Stiles turned to go take himself literally anywhere else. Perhaps take the stairs down and find the nearest hole he could throw himself into?</p><p>Stiles made it two paces when he felt a hand grab his arm. He quickly turned back toward Derek who had in fact reached out for and was now gripping Stiles’ bicep. He had a strange look on his face. </p><p>“No,” Derek managed to answer before clarifying, “No plans.”</p><p>Stiles attempted to say something but didn’t quite know how to proceed. At least, not with how intensely Derek was currently staring at him. The werewolf straightened up and pasted a smile on his face, though he was still gripping Stiles’ arm. Derek said, “It’s just that this is the first time you’ve invited me for dinner,” as an explanation. “I was just surprised,” he concluded with a laugh.</p><p>
  <em> “Plus, I was so happy, I nearly died and went to heaven.” </em>
</p><p>Derek thankfully released the human’s arm at that point. Stiles didn’t think he could regain any semblance of composure if Derek’s thoughts continued to fly through his mind. “I see,” Stiles replied, his mind unable to supply him with anything better as a response.</p><p><em> He nearly </em> died <em> ? </em></p><p>
  <em> Anyway, that was close. I almost ran away again. </em>
</p><p>Derek stepped closer, looking back to his normal self and no longer uncomposed. “So, what do you feel like having?” he asked before offering Stiles a smile.</p><p>
  <em> Okay, I can do this… hang in there, me. </em>
</p><p>Stiles returned Derek’s smile with a tentative one.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>This situation was the absolute last place Stiles wanted to be in. Yet, there he was.</p><p>
  <em> So, the first and only time I’ve worked up the courage to do something… </em>
</p><p>Stiles regarded the person he was seated next to critically. He hoped his disapproval wasn’t too visible on his face.</p><p>“Is everyone having fun?” Liam Dunbar bellowed, raising his half-full pint glass above his head and still managing to slosh some beer onto the table. “Yeah!” he cheered, and was greeted by a loud chorus of responses from their coworkers.</p><p><em> …and it was ruined by </em> this guy <em> showing up. </em></p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Derek and Stiles settled on going to a nearby diner that Stiles was particularly fond of. While Derek was in fact fun to talk to, this was still uncharted waters for Stiles and it wouldn’t hurt to have his comfort food — curly fries — around. Derek seemed happy to go along and was willing to try Stiles’ recommendation.</p><p>Stiles was in the process of explaining how this diner also had healthy options from the last time his dad visited. Derek was all smiles, listening attentively. Then they were interrupted.</p><p>“There you are!”</p><p>Liam came bounding up to them from the other end of the hallway, looking remarkably like a puppy, despite being in his early twenties. Stiles startled and flailed, then jumped away from both werewolves at the unexpected arrival.</p><p>Liam skidded to a halt in front of Derek and gazed up at him like one would after being flown to safety by Superman. “Thank god you were still at the office, Derek,” Liam said while just barely vibrating with excitement.</p><p>“What’s up?” Derek asked, glancing at Stiles briefly before giving Liam his full attention.</p><p>Liam straightened his suit jacket importantly. “I just got my first official contract! I made a sale!” he concluded, pumping a fist in the air.</p><p>“What?” Derek asked, sounding and looking genuinely elated for the younger werewolf. “That’s amazing!”</p><p>“I couldn’t have done it without your help and advice, Derek!” replied Liam who could barely conceal how he was eating up the praise.</p><p>“Nah,” Derek said, clearly wanting to keep the focus on Liam’s accomplishment, “I’m pretty sure it’s just because you worked hard at it and didn’t give up.” Derek placed a mentorly hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Congratulations.”</p><p>“Thanks!” If Liam had a tail, it would be wagging. “Anyway, Raf said this was a reason to celebrate and we should all go out for some drinks!” he continued, hopping foot to foot in barely contained enthusiasm.</p><p>Stiles, who was smiling along at the exchange, instantly felt the expression slip off his face.</p><p>“What?” Stiles and Derek responded simultaneously. Neither sounded happy.</p><p>Liam looked rapidly between Derek and Stiles. “Well? Would you guys like to join us?”</p><p>Stiles felt the all too familiar sensation of nerves settling in. This wasn’t at all like he hoped his evening would go.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And now we’re here.  </em>
</p><p>Here was some beer and hot wings place called Wing of Fire.</p><p>Stiles returned to the present to bemusedly watch Liam, who was now chugging his remaining beer while almost everyone else was cheering him on and watching in fascination. Rafael McCall looked particularly amused.</p><p>“Now this guy can drink!” remarked their boss.</p><p>Liam wiped the beer foam that collected on his top lip off on his sleeve and burped loudly.</p><p>McCall nodded in approval and fixed Liam with a look. “Now, you better keep those new contracts pouring in!”</p><p>“I will!” Liam responded. The young werewolf looked like he was right in his element. Like a puppy, he really did respond well to positive reinforcement. “Just call me Derek 2.0!”</p><p>Liam’s last quip earned a round of laughter from the whole table. Derek, who ended up being seated as far away from Stiles, looked up in mock offense. “And what do you mean by that exactly?”</p><p>Stiles admired Derek’s lack of ego and insecurity to be able to continue joking around like that. He easily lived up to everyone’s expectations while Stiles… didn’t. Derek was a deluxe banana split while Stiles was a single scoop cone of vanilla that someone dropped on the ground. It still didn’t make sense to him that he somehow lived in a world where he was the object of Derek Hale’s affections.</p><p>
  <em> I guess even if we’d gone to dinner, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to hold a proper conversation with him. I didn’t really think that through… I’m not really the type to take chances, after all. </em>
</p><p>Stiles glanced over to where Derek fell into easy conversation with Paige, Kira, and Nathan, another guy from sales.</p><p>
  <em> If I’m going to try and get to know Derek, I should probably figure myself out around him first. </em>
</p><p>The impromptu office outing started to wind down about an hour later, with some members of their staff ducking out and calling it a night. Despite not being in his element at all, Stiles didn’t want to be seen as someone who would eat and run or who couldn’t spend some leisure time in his coworkers’ company.</p><p>Liam had disappeared a few minutes ago and returned with two brand new pints of beer. “Hey Stiles!” he greeted jovially, as if they weren’t seated next to each other during this whole meal. “You need another one?” he asked as he plonked one of the drinks down in front of the human without waiting for an answer. “Take this!”</p><p>Stiles nursed the same beer for the past hour and had just managed to drain it. It was pretty nice of Liam to notice, he figured.</p><p>Stiles took stock of the remaining people in their party. Liam was now offering the other new pint he bought to Kira, who was seated on his other side, but she politely declined. Otherwise, Paige and Violet, humans from the Design Team, were still there as were Vargas and Haigh, two senior members who routinely almost got into a little too much fun at office events. Derek was quietly conversing with McCall off to the side.</p><p>Stiles’ attention was diverted back to Liam, who cheered across the table at Haigh, who was sloppily chugging his beer. “Tonight, we’re drinking this place clean of all their booze!” Liam crowed, to the cheers of their remaining colleagues. </p><p>Stiles half-heartedly raised the new, full glass Liam brought along with everyone else. Internally, he was just about regretting the series of events that led him to be here. </p><p>
  <em> This all just really isn’t my thing. </em>
</p><p>Stiles noticed that Derek had broken away from McCall and was now headed his way. Derek leaned down to speak directly to Liam, though he had to raise his voice to be heard in the fairly crowded restaurant.</p><p>“Liam?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Raf is heading home for the night,” Derek explained, “Do you mind seeing him to his car?”</p><p>“Got it!” replied Liam, already rising from his seat. “I’ll be right back!” he called out to no one in particular in their group. Stiles turned his attention back to his drink and half-eaten wings and fries as he heard Liam ask McCall loudly if it wasn’t at all possible for him to stay a bit longer.</p><p>Stiles continued working on his second beer when he heard Liam’s chair skid back. He was a little surprised to then see Derek take it and settle in next to him.</p><p>“Sorry about him,” Derek began, clearly referring to Liam, “if you haven’t noticed, he tends to get a little overexcited.”</p><p>“All good,” Stiles responded, a bit muffled with his lips on the rim of his glass. He could feel Derek properly looking at him out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>Derek reached into his vest pocket and pulled a shiny bit of plastic out and brandished it to everyone else at the table. “McCall left the company card with me so please go ahead and order dessert or anything else you might want.” His explanation was met with excitement and scrambling to see a menu from the others.</p><p>Stiles was in the middle of taking a long sip from his glass when he barely registered Derek’s elbow settling next to his on the table.</p><p>
  <em> “This sucks. I was supposed to be on a date with Stiles right now.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles spluttered and dribbled beer down his shirt and immediate area.</p><p>
  <em> A date?! </em>
</p><p>“Hey, you okay?” Derek asked, clearly concerned.</p><p>Stiles barely managed a nod in confirmation. Derek pressed some napkins into Stiles’ hands so he began dabbing at his face and cleaning himself up.</p><p><em> Did I give him the wrong idea? Wait. I’m an idiot. I  </em> asked him out to dinner<em>.</em></p><p>Derek grabbed another wad of napkins and helped clean up the rest of the spilled drink. He leaned forward and ended up brushing their arms together.</p><p>
  <em> “Does this mean we won’t be going to dinner anymore?” </em>
</p><p>Stiles froze pressing his wad of napkins over his mouth. He stared at Derek out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>
  <em> “No. I’ll just have to make sure we still do.” </em>
</p><p>Derek broke contact, leaning away when he was satisfied that Stiles’ area was now dry and beer-free.</p><p>“Hey Stiles —” he started.</p><p>Stiles felt the familiar urge to retreat. “Sorry. Restroom. Be right back,” he supplied jerkily before rising from his seat and power-walking away. He was certain Derek’s eyes were on him the whole time, tracking his departure.</p><p>In the mens room, Stiles finally had some space to think and feel terrible about himself.</p><p><em> I ran away again, </em> Stiles groused to himself. <em> What am I doing? What do I even want to do about this thing with Derek? </em></p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Elsewhere, in his combination living room/library/workspace, Isaac Lahey was plodding away at the outline for his next novel. Aside from shelves and piles of books, a sturdy-looking cat tree was placed right by his desk. His cat Clementine sat on one of the ledges, swatting at a fluffy ball on a spring.</p><p>Isaac’s phone chimed, signalling a new message. It was from Stiles.</p><p>
  <b>— I don’t understand myself.</b>
</p><p>Isaac tsk-ed to himself. “He’s in pretty bad shape again,” he said, looking up from his screen to speak to his cat.</p><p>Isaac was trying to come up with a reply when his doorbell rang. Remembering his scheduled delivery and tabling whatever existential issue Stiles was going through at the moment, he went to go meet his visitor.</p><p>At the door was a familiar delivery man Isaac had seen around the area for the past few weeks.</p><p>“Delivery from Deaton’s Pet Care,” the man announced.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>The delivery man handed over a tablet and stylus. “Sign here please.”</p><p>
  <em> It’s him. </em>
</p><p>The guy was definitely on the taller side but not quite as tall as Isaac, who had two inches on him. The man had tan skin, sharp eyes, and dark hair, which was currently hidden under a hat bearing a company logo. He wore an aloof expression and looked pretty athletic by the fit of his standard-issue work shirt on him. He smelled human.</p><p>
  <em> This guy’s been delivering packages to my place recently. Seems curt and self-involved. Knows what he looks like and clearly flaunts it. </em>
</p><p>Isaac was about to comply with the request when he realized the man was only carrying one box. “Just the one package? I had two scheduled for delivery today.”</p><p>The man considered his words for a moment then replied, “I can go check the truck for another box. Go ahead and sign for now though.”</p><p>Isaac wasn’t trying to be difficult but he wasn’t signing for anything he might not receive. He clipped the stylus back to the device and deliberately handed it back.</p><p>“That’s kinda rude,” Isaac muttered. The man’s lips were a thin line as he took the device back. Isaac felt their fingers brush.</p><p>
  <em> “Jeez. You do nothing but complain.” </em>
</p><p>Isaac froze, watching the other man carefully.</p><p>
  <em> “We all know you’re shut in here all the time. Sometimes you can’t even get to the door to sign for a delivery just because you fell asleep.” </em>
</p><p>This was something Isaac had never experienced before, even with his werewolf senses. It was like the man’s voice was echoing through his head despite him not having opened his mouth.</p><p>“Thanks, I’ll go check right now then,” the man declared before he left to go do just that. Isaac’s front door shut softly behind him.</p><p>“What was that?” Isaac asked no one in particular. He looked down at his hands to see that he was still holding the first box the delivery man handed to him. He mechanically moved to set it down on a nearby table. Then his phone chimed again.</p><p>It was another message from Stiles.</p><p>
  <b>— Also, Belated Happy Birthday. I hope we can stay friends through our thirties.</b>
</p><p>Isaac’s arms dropped limply at his sides when realization hit. He managed to keep enough awareness to not drop his phone.</p><p>“A-am I a wizard now too?!”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles exited the restroom after recollecting himself and passed by the restaurant entrance. He considered ducking out and getting a Lyft home at this point until he spotted Liam a few feet away. </p><p>The young werewolf seemed comfortable on the seats usually occupied by patrons who were waiting to be seated. Liam was idly tapping away at his phone. He probably sensed someone familiar nearby when he looked up and locked eyes with Stiles.</p><p>“Huh? Stiles?” Liam bounded out of his seat and approached. “What’s up?” he asked, openly sniffing the air, “Are you drunk?”</p><p>Liam has probably said more words to him in one night than in the entire time they have worked together… which wasn’t too long either. “No,” Stiles replied simply.</p><p>Liam plastered a smile on his face that he’d been wearing all night. He sidled right up to Stiles and easily slung an arm over his shoulders. “The night’s barely just getting started! Let’s go get you pumped up, yeah?”</p><p>Stiles tried to smile back but he probably ended up looking more awkward than anything else.</p><p>Clearly not sensing Stiles’ discomfort, Liam’s brow furrowed and moved behind Stiles instead, grabbing onto both his shoulders and applying some gentle pressure. “Damn. You’re holding a lot of tension up here,” he commented.</p><p>Stiles was going to tell the guy that other people’s hands on him was a big source of tension for him but he was quickly distracted from his discomfort when:</p><p>
  <em> “Crap. Does he know that I was hiding?” </em>
</p><p>Stiles involuntarily turned his head slightly, as if to confirm that he in fact heard that thought from Liam.</p><p>Liam was apparently done with the impromptu shoulder massage since he stepped over to Stiles’ side again and jerked his head in another direction. “Should we head on back to everyone?”</p><p>
  <em> Hiding? What does that mean? </em>
</p><p>Liam led the way back while Stiles followed, officially intrigued. In a first for him, Stiles deliberately reached out lightly and placed a palm on Liam’s back to learn more. Thankfully the werewolf was once again too busy with his phone to notice.</p><p>
  <em> “Sucks to be a were sometimes.” </em>
</p><p><em> “Everyone’s clothes </em> reek <em> of cigarette smoke. Like, they all might as well be smoking in here. Gross… I </em> really <em> don’t want to go back in there.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “But this party is for me, after all. I even got Derek and Stiles dragged into this too…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Okay, gotta get that out of my system; just gonna power through the rest of it.” </em>
</p><p>From their limited interactions, Liam seemed like a decent worker and was eager to learn the ins and outs of his job. But otherwise, he also seemed kind of boisterous and Stiles assumed his interest in sales was rooted in socializing, schmoozing, and taking potential clients out to dinner and drinks.</p><p>
  <em> Have I misjudged him? Is Liam actually a great guy? </em>
</p><p>Liam paused and turned, finally noticing Stiles’ hand. “Is there something on my back?” he asked.</p><p>“Oh. Um, no.” Stiles hastily withdrew his hand and took a look around. There were many humans who came and went, huddled with their friends in the parking lot or the nearby courtyard for occasional smoke breaks. He couldn’t really smell anything from in here but he also didn’t have the heightened senses of a werewolf. Taking pity on Liam, he decided to give him an excuse for fresh air.</p><p>“Um. Hey, Liam?” The werewolf turned to Stiles.</p><p>“My stomach’s not doing too great and I wanted to go grab something to help it settle,” Stiles explained, using half-truths so he wasn’t technically lying. “Is there like a pharmacy or convenience store nearby?”</p><p>“Yeah, we passed one on the way here.”</p><p>“Sorry, do you mind showing me the way?” Stiles asked.</p><p>Liam seemed to realize the opportunity he was being presented. “Actually, I could just go run out and get it for you!” he replied brightly. </p><p>“Oh. Um, are you sure?”</p><p>“Of course! Go and wait with the others, I’ll be right back!” Liam called back to Stiles, already jogging back the way they came.</p><p>“Thank you!” Stiles called after him. He could barely make out Liam’s reply of “Sure thing!” through the din of the busy restaurant. Either way, Stiles was just happy he was able to help get the guy some fresh air. He actually seemed pretty cool after all.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t really know what to make of gaining new insight into people like Derek and Liam Dunbar. But this is definitely a lesson on judging people on first impressions. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Isaac was back at his laptop, barely suppressing his panic while he scrolled through the results of a search for the keywords “virgin wizard”. He was interrupted by the doorbell going off again.</p><p>The delivery man was back, this time looking apologetic. He had another box tucked under his arm.</p><p>“It took me a while to find it, but here,” the man said, handing the box over. “Sorry that took a while,” he continued sheepishly.</p><p>Isaac currently had other things to focus on. He actually forgot about the second package, if he was quite honest. “Oh. It’s fine. Thank you.” He went to go stow his other parcel away and made sure to be careful where he stepped as Clementine wove between his legs, meowing for attention.</p><p>“Hey, that cat…” Isaac heard the delivery man say.</p><p>Isaac glanced down briefly at his pet then back at the man. He was staring at Clementine in recognition and smelled happy. It was faint when he first arrived but now the scent of citrus and coconut was hitting Isaac harder. “You know Clementine?” he asked.</p><p>The delivery man stared at Isaac directly. “Clementine?”</p><p>Isaac bent down to gently pick up his cat then moved closer to the man. “That’s her name. She was in an empty fruit box when I found her.” Isaac pointed to a corner where an old box of clementines was taken apart, collapsed, and stowed out of the way.</p><p>The delivery man blinked. “That’s kind of lazy,” he muttered to himself.</p><p>“Hmm?” Isaac asked automatically. He’d heard the comment thanks to his wolf hearing and he usually ignored people’s whispered comments since they weren’t technically meant for his ears. But he was a little shaken up at the moment and it was only partly to do with the anomaly from earlier.</p><p>“Oh, sorry,” the delivery man replied, looking guilty about his comment.</p><p>“No, it’s fine,” Isaac reassured, “It’s true, I didn’t put much thought into her name after adopting her.”</p><p>Clementine mewed at nothing in particular.</p><p>“She used to live in that park two blocks away right?” the delivery man asked.</p><p>“That’s where I found her,” Isaac confirmed.</p><p>“Thought so. I was worried for a bit when she suddenly disappeared,” the man stated, sounding genuinely relieved. “Well I’m happy she’s alive and safe here with you,” he added, staring right at the cat. Cautiously, he moved forward and stroked her orange, furry head, casually brushing by Isaac’s arm as well.</p><p>
  <em> “He actually seems a lot nicer than I thought, I guess. He’s been ordering a lot of cat care products from Deaton’s for a while now. Guess I know why.” </em>
</p><p>Isaac felt his stomach flip-flopping around. The guy’s scent was even stronger and better up close. Isaac’s face felt hot; he felt the need to loosen his scarf. The unsuspecting man continued to pet his cat and moved his face closer to the animal.</p><p>
  <em> “Aren’t you lucky you’ve got this guy who loves you so much, cutie?” </em>
</p><p>Isaac whined; a pathetic-sounding animal whimper that escaped his throat, completely unbidden. The delivery man froze and gave him a puzzled look. Isaac’s face felt even hotter.</p><p>The guy pulled away. “What was that?”</p><p>“What was what?” Isaac croaked.</p><p>“Um. Okay,” the delivery man responded, uncertain. “Well, I’m gonna go now.” He spared Clementine another soft look and a wave before he was gone.</p><p>Isaac clapped a hand over his mouth. He sank to his knees right where he stood. He continued clutching his cat, who began to struggle out of his grip.</p><p>Clementine mewed, demanding to be let down.</p><p>“Whaaat the f—”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles returned to their group’s table with the remaining occupants clearly in the middle of something. Derek, who was still in Liam’s seat, was smiling to himself while taking a swig of his beer. It looked like Vargas and Haigh were holding court over everyone else when Haigh looked up and spotted Stiles.</p><p>“Stilinski!” he called out, frantically beckoning Stiles closer. “Sit down! Play with us!” Vargas spotted him too and joined in on waving him over.</p><p>Stiles complied, quickly shuffling back to his chair. Kira and Derek were still in the same seats and they each had a single straw on the table in front of them. “What are we doing?” Stiles inquired.</p><p>“Truth or dare,” supplied Kira helpfully, “but you have to draw straws instead of taking turns.”</p><p>
  <em> Oh god. </em>
</p><p>Vargas, who had apparently suggested the game to begin with, explained the mechanics of the game. Whoever draws the longest straw gets to decide if the challenge would be a truth or a dare. The person or people who have the shortest straws have to do a dare that requires however many people.</p><p>Haigh was now holding out a choice of just two straws to Stiles while chanting “Pick one” over and over. Stiles complied and ended up grabbing the shorter of the two.</p><p>“Alright,” said Vargas, after downing the rest of her beer, “everyone show your straws to see who wins and who’s on the chopping block.”</p><p>Turned out Vargas was also lucky enough to grab the longest one and she proceeded to spend some time rejoicing about that.</p><p>“Okay, what do I want y’all to do…” Vargas wondered out loud. “Got it! I dare you, whoever has the two shortest straws, to kiss!”</p><p>Stiles stared down at his straw. It was pretty short, about two inches long. He was vaguely aware of everyone else looking around to see who had to do the dare.</p><p>“Hale, you’ve got the shortest one!” Stiles heard Haigh declare. Stiles looked over at Derek’s straw. It was only about half an inch shorter than Stiles’. Which meant…</p><p>“Stilinski has the other one!” Haigh cackled harshly. </p><p>
  <em> This was not happening. </em>
</p><p>“But we’re both guys,” Stiles attempted to reason weakly.</p><p>Stiles felt a chill run up his spine. His heart was hammering too fast and his stomach was churning. He could barely make out the sound of Vargas and maybe Violet busting his balls about being a wet blanket and that he would be no fun if he refused.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t care about being fun. Will I end up having my first kiss here? Surrounded by coworkers, beer, and hot wings? </em>
</p><p>Everyone at the table was now chanting for them to kiss, save for Kira and…</p><p>
  <em> And the person they want me to kiss is… </em>
</p><p>Derek had a relaxed, unaffected smile on his face. “I think you all have had too much to drink,” he stated simply. It sounded like an easygoing, disarming statement from a guy trying to bring an end to drunken mischief. While Stiles was aware of Derek’s feelings, maybe he also didn’t want to be roped into some cheap kiss between them.</p><p>“Yeah,” Stiles quickly agreed with Derek’s remark.</p><p>“The rules of truth or dare are finite!” Vargas imperiously declared. Most of their party appeared to agree.</p><p>“Yeah but…” said Derek, trailing off with a laugh. He just about had Stiles convinced too that he didn’t want the kiss to happen either.</p><p>“Just get it over with then! Plant one on him!” Vargas declared. Everyone on her side of the table joined in.</p><p>Stiles could see Derek fidget unsurely out of the corner of his eye. Then he twisted in his chair to face Stiles directly. </p><p>
  <em> Oh god. </em>
</p><p>“Let’s get this over with,” Derek said casually, trying to gently coax Stiles in on the idea. “Let’s give them what they want so they’ll leave us alone.”</p><p>Stiles turned his head to look right at Derek. The werewolf took the opportunity to loop his arm around Stiles’ shoulders and started to lean in. Derek was staring intently at him and moving closer and Stiles just couldn’t handle or process what was coming. It seemed like this was just going to happen to him whether he wanted it or not. He squeezed his eyes shut.</p><p>Stiles sat there, afraid, petrified, and frozen. He could feel the warm weight of Derek’s arm across his shoulders. He could feel the werewolf’s warm breath on his face. He could hear most of their coworkers egging Derek on.</p><p>But he never did feel the touch of Derek’s lips on his own.</p><p>Derek’s arm left his shoulders and instead, Stiles felt his coworker’s large, warm hand brush some hair off his forehead. He then felt the firm press of Derek’s lips on the same spot, just right above his eyebrow, as well as the rasp of the werewolf’s short beard against his skin.</p><p>Stiles slowly opened his eyes. He felt Derek pull away.</p><p>It was like the world had gone out of focus during that brief moment. But now everything came rushing back and Stiles was hyper-aware of everything else around them. He was aware and relieved by the lack of comment from Kira. He was even more aware of the disappointed groans from their other coworkers, calling Derek’s forehead kiss a cop-out. He was aware of the bustle throughout the restaurant and the other patrons paying them no mind.</p><p>Derek pulled his phone out of his pocket and briefly glanced at the screen. “Gotta take this,” he explained as he vacated his seat.</p><p>“Come on, Hale!” Haigh called after him, “You’re not mad, are you?”</p><p>Derek turned back, his lips stretched into a smile, though it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes, “Of course not!” he denied, “But let’s reel the game in a bit, okay?”</p><p>From where he sat, Stiles could see the look easily slide off Derek’s face as he turned away from them, his dark brows furrowing. If Stiles hadn’t seen the change in Derek’s expression, the stiffness in his shoulders as he walked away was very telling. Stiles fully turned in his seat to watch the werewolf retreat.</p><p>At about the same time, Liam made his return. He stopped in his tracks as Derek walked right past him. Liam called after him but Derek acted like he didn’t hear and kept moving. Liam shrugged and returned to the table.</p><p>Liam paused and stared at the rest of the group. “What’s with the vibe I just walked into?”</p><p>“We were playing truth or dare but it got a little weird,” Haigh offered as an explanation.</p><p>Liam took his seat back and found the short straw that Derek had left behind. Liam raised an eyebrow, “Truth or dare? It’s like you guys are in middle school or something.” Liam released a short giggle. “Cringe.”</p><p>Vargas visibly bristled and pursed her lips. Haigh stuttered some half-baked excuses. Liam didn’t seem to notice.</p><p>“I’m hungry again,” Liam announced, grabbing at a nearby menu. He turned toward Kira, “Wanna split another order of wings with me, Kira?”</p><p>Stiles was no longer paying attention. He thought he heard Kira say something about now seeing Liam in a different light but Stiles’ mind had gone back to that moment with Derek.</p><p>Stiles could still feel the sensation of Derek’s lips on his forehead. Through that single point of contact, Stiles could feel Derek’s strongest thought, as if he was willing Stiles to feel it through that simple, tender kiss.</p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry.” </em>
</p><p>Derek probably easily smelled the distress in Stiles’ scent in that moment. And despite having every opportunity to take advantage of the situation and act on his feelings, Derek’s main concern was still Stiles’ comfort and safety.</p><p>Stiles pictured the drained look on Derek’s face and just how empty his eyes were as he turned to walk away. Stiles didn’t really know what to do or what he should say eventually; all he knew was that he couldn’t let Derek walk off looking like that.</p><p>Stiles was somewhat aware that Liam was speaking. He was also holding out a plastic bottle full of a bright pink liquid. But Stiles felt needed elsewhere so he quickly stood and left the restaurant.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles exited into the middle of an outdoor courtyard. The restaurant was on the ground floor of a multi-level square structure that was built around the open space. There were still some people milling about, possibly deciding where to dine for the evening. But the upper levels only had stores and shops that were already closed at that hour. If Stiles needed a second to not be disturbed, that’s where he would go.</p><p>Stiles ascended the steps through the upper levels after stopping by a vending machine to buy a bottle of water. He had paused to inspect each floor to see if he could spot his coworker before taking the next flight up. Upon reaching the top level and looking around, he soon enough spotted the tall, broad-shouldered silhouette he had become quite familiar with.</p><p>Stiles silently and carefully approached Derek. He knew the man most likely would have already smelled and heard his approach. So Stiles paused a few feet away, giving Derek the chance to take his leave if he didn’t want to be around Stiles at that time. </p><p>The werewolf didn’t move; he remained standing by the edge of the walkway, his hands in his pockets, facing the railing that overlooked the courtyard below. They were surrounded by larger buildings in that area of downtown — dark, giant, behemoths of metal and concrete that partially obscured the clear night sky.</p><p>Stiles took a deep breath and decided to announce his presence.</p><p>“Derek?”</p><p>The werewolf in question started and turned his head to acknowledge Stiles. There was a warmth in Derek’s eyes that Stiles realized looked quite different from what he gave off at work. It was a look he’d only seen during moments between them. But at the same time, there was a weariness there as well.</p><p>Derek turned to look back out over the railing and Stiles decided to move closer. He stopped about an arm’s length away, fiddling with the bottle in his hands. “Um, are you okay?” he asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Derek replied, digging his hands further into his pockets, “Just had a little too much to drink, is all.”</p><p>Stiles took that opportunity to hold the cold, unopened bottle out to Derek. “Here.”</p><p>Derek looked from Stiles to the proffered bottle and his face broke into a grin as he reached out to receive it. “Thank you,” he said, as he broke the seal on the cap. He took a swig as they both looked out over the busy restaurants and patrons below. Stiles put his hands on the rail in front of him and slightly fidgeted in their shared silence.</p><p>Clutching the bottle in one hand, Derek crossed his arms and rested them on the rail as well. “They went a little too far trying to make two men kiss like that,” he stated plainly. He shifted slightly and his elbow touched the edge of Stiles’ palm.</p><p>
  <em> “Touching Stiles under those circumstances doesn’t make me happy.” </em>
</p><p><em> “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t at least slightly enjoy it. But… Stiles looked </em> terrified <em> . And of course he was.” </em></p><p>Stiles stood stock still, careful not to outwardly react to what he was hearing. Derek took the opportunity to continue what was so far a one-sided conversation.</p><p>“I mean, most men don’t really want to get kissed by some guy they work with,” said Derek. He turned to look at Stiles again, his face unreadable, “Right?” </p><p>Stiles turned to meet Derek’s gaze. He didn’t seem to expect a response out of Stiles but there was something <em> searching </em> in the way Derek looked at him.</p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry I fell for you.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles looked away first, processing both what was said and unsaid. Derek pulled away from the railing and stretched, effectively breaking their contact.</p><p>“Well, should we head on back and break up the party?” Derek asked, easily snapping back into his easy-going work persona. He was already making his way back toward the way Stiles came from.</p><p>Stiles didn’t want his first kiss to be in front of a group of workplace acquaintances on a dare. Ideally, it would be with someone who he loved and loved him back. But in hindsight, if hackneyed circumstance was to dictate how it went, Stiles would have preferred to have it with someone who respected him. Someone who gave Stiles more than a passing thought. Someone who saw him for who he truly was or saw the best in him and his actions, even in times when Stiles wasn’t able to do so himself. Derek wasn’t just <em> some guy </em> Stiles worked with.</p><p>Stiles gripped the railing in front of him harder. “I —”</p><p>The sound of Derek’s departing footsteps stopped. “Hmm?” Stiles heard the werewolf inquire gently from where he stood.</p><p>Stiles forced himself to release his grip on the cold metal bars and turn to face Derek fully. The werewolf was staring at him patiently, curiously, but that in itself was terrifying to Stiles. He didn’t know where he planned on going with this. He just knew that he needed Derek to know…</p><p>“I didn’t mind.”</p><p>At first Derek looked confused by Stiles’ statement. Dawning realization was soon evident on his face with the context of their previous conversation.</p><p>“Stiles?” Derek queried, as if hardly daring to believe what he was hearing.</p><p>
  <em> That’s right. I didn’t mind that it was Derek. </em>
</p><p>Stiles was dreading getting kissed with an audience present. He was even less enthused to do it as cheap entertainment for coworkers that he barely knew. But Derek’s presence at the time — both physical and mental — actually gave Stiles some comfort. It was a presence he had come to associate with feeling acknowledged, wanted, and respected.</p><p>Stiles still had no idea what he was trying to do at this moment. He still thought that Derek’s thoughts, feelings, and fantasies were too big to handle. But Stiles couldn’t let Derek leave without him knowing that he didn’t cross a line and that he was appreciated too.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t ever want to see Derek look this sad or disappointed in himself again. </em>
</p><p>Derek remained at his spot, looking at Stiles curiously while he had his moment of introspection. Stiles didn’t quite know how to explain what he was currently grappling with so he decided to start with a simple truth he would have felt self-conscious admitting out loud to most people.</p><p>“Um, I… I’ve actually never kissed anyone before.”</p><p>“What?” Derek reacted, surprised. Stiles couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if he was humoring him.</p><p>Stiles was resisting all impulse to draw into himself. “Please don’t laugh,” he requested.</p><p>“I’m not laughing,” Derek stated plainly. He took a step closer.</p><p>“I really am just as unpopular as I seem,” Stiles continued, vaguely gesturing at himself. “I’ve never dated anyone, much less had someone willing to kiss me.”</p><p>Derek was silent now, just processing Stiles’ words.</p><p>“So… I was just really nervous, I guess.” Stiles was moving his arms around wildly while he spoke, hyper-aware and starting to panic, realizing he was mostly just rambling and nervously oversharing. He dropped both arms deliberately to his sides and clenched his fists. “What I mean is… please don’t feel bad or sad about earlier.”</p><p>Derek smiled kindly at him. “I see. Good thing too, since I wasn’t your first kiss then.”</p><p>“No, no! That’s not what I meant,” Stiles exclaimed, taking a couple of steps forward. He felt like he was doing such a poor job of explaining.</p><p>“I just uh…” Stiles attempted again, fidgeting and stammering where he stood, “Um… y’know…”</p><p>Taking a deep, steadying breath, Stiles decided to bite the bullet. “I wouldn’t have minded if it was you. If you were… if my first kiss… was with you.”</p><p>Stiles couldn’t quite identify the look that came across Derek’s face. All Stiles knew is he’s never been looked at <em> like that </em> before.</p><p>
  <em> I know I should be ignoring him but I can’t. I don’t really know what this is and what I’m feeling that’s making it so hard to do either. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I think… I think I just want to be around him and properly get to know him too. </em>
</p><p>It just occurred to Stiles that it was fairly dark where they stood, the lampposts around them only providing some dim light. Still, from where Derek stood, he could tell the man swallowed heavily by the pronounced movement of his Adam's apple. </p><p>“Do you… are you… do you mean what I think you’re saying?” Derek asked, his face once again very open and earnest.</p><p>Stiles made a questioning noise when Derek took a couple, tentative steps closer. When it seemed like Stiles was making no moves to get away, Derek continued his approach, gaining more conviction with each step.</p><p>There was only about a foot of space between them. “Derek?” Stiles inquired, the werewolf’s gaze unwavering, locked on his face.</p><p>Derek lifted his right hand and placed it on the left side of Stiles’ neck. Stiles was pretty sure he heard himself release an involuntary squeak at the contact.</p><p>Derek’s spread his fingers and moved his hand up slightly so he was softly cradling Stiles’ jaw. The werewolf’s other hand, which was still holding the bottle of water Stiles brought him, released the item and let it drop to the floor below. </p><p>The thumping sound of the half-full plastic bottle hitting the tiled outdoor walkway echoed in Stiles’ ears.</p><p>Derek raised his now free hand to gently grip Stiles along his ribs and used this grip to pull him closer. Their faces were inches away. And getting closer.</p><p>Derek had shut his eyes as he continued to lean in. Stiles himself felt frozen and could not shut his own at that time if he tried. He hadn’t noticed before just how long Derek’s eyelashes were.</p><p>Stiles felt Derek’s nose brush against his own…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My apologies that I posted this a wee bit later than usual. If you are enjoying this story so far, would love to know your thoughts! In hindsight, I don’t think I should have left this at such a cliffhanger 😶</p><p>He may not have been named here but yes, the delivery guy is in fact Danny.</p><p>I drew heavy inspiration for the building where the hot wings place was from Weller Court, which is in Downtown LA in Little Tokyo.</p><p>Please stay tuned for next chapter... we learn quite a bit about Kira in that one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. This Sensation of My Racing Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles and Derek are interrupted, Stiles retreats.</p><p>Stiles gets to know Kira a little better.</p><p>Stiles arrives at a realization.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Spoken dialogue will be in quotations.<br/>Thoughts of POV character will be italicized.<br/>Thoughts that Stiles can hear will be in quotations and italicized.</p><p>The characters and premise of Teen Wolf were created by Jeff Davis and belong to MTV.</p><p>The plot for this story is heavily adapted from the TV drama Cherry Magic! 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!, which is owned by TV Tokyo and Square Enix. The drama is in turn adapted from a manga of the same name, created by Yuu Toyota.</p><p>None of this is mine. The only thing I would call my own is the desire to see this sweet, wholesome story applied to one of my favorite ships that led to me writing this.</p><p>Do not repost this work on other sites.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I wouldn’t have minded if it was you. If you were… if my first kiss… was with you.”</p><p>Derek blinked. He couldn’t help but listen to Stiles’ heartbeat. Derek could hear his mom’s voice in his head telling him to tune it out; Stiles was essentially confiding in and sharing with him and it wouldn’t do to check if he was telling the truth.</p><p>But Derek wasn’t being lied to. Stiles’ heartbeat was fast — faster than normal actually, given how nervous he was — but it was also steady.</p><p>
  <em> Is it… does he… are we…  </em>
</p><p>Derek swallowed heavily, tamping down the urge to blurt out everything that was running through his mind right that second.</p><p>“Do you… are you…” Derek cleared his throat nervously, “do you mean what I think you’re saying?” His own heart was now pounding faster.</p><p>Derek’s mom and sisters have told him that his emotions were very easy to read from the look on his face. His mom said it lovingly; she could always tell when he was having a bad day or if he needed comforting. She also knew when he was the happiest he had ever been. His sisters said it to make fun of his eyebrows. </p><p>At that moment, Derek didn’t know how his face looked. He was too personally invested to school his face back into anything easy-going or neutral.</p><p>Derek’s feet took him a couple steps closer before Stiles released a squeak and the werewolf’s brain caught up with the movement. When Stiles didn’t move away or demand Derek do so, he continued his approach, keeping each step slow and deliberate. He fully braced himself for rejection as he drew closer, waiting for the moment Stiles would turn him away.</p><p>There wasn’t much distance to close between them when Stiles spoke, softly uttering Derek’s name. Derek decided he really liked the way it sounded from Stiles’ lips.</p><p>Derek lifted a hand and placed it on the side of Stiles’ neck. Stiles squeaked again but made neither demands to stop nor moves to get away. Derek moved his hand upward slightly to delicately handle Stiles’ jaw.</p><p>Derek released the water bottle from his other hand to find purchase on Stiles’ side and guided the human closer. Stiles’ eyes were wide and his lips were parted, giving Derek a glimpse of his pink tongue. The werewolf decided to commit that image to memory. </p><p>He was lucky enough to be the one giving Stiles his first kiss, after all. He needed to make sure that image was burned into the backs of his eyelids.</p><p>Derek shut his eyes and leaned in, feeling the tip of his nose brush against Stiles’.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>A sharp trilling noise and vibration in his pocket broke Stiles out of the shared moment. His whole body jerked and sprang out of Derek’s hold, releasing a noise that could only be described as a yelp. Derek stayed rooted to the spot as Stiles turned away and danced out of his reach, fumbling for the phone in his pocket. The werewolf blinked rapidly, a dazed look on his face.</p><p>Stiles finally managed to fish his phone out and accepted the call. Just because he trusted Derek enough with his first kiss didn’t mean Stiles was emotionally ready for it to happen several feet above some chicken wing joint on some random work night. Looked like the universe agreed with him too with the timing of the call.</p><p>“Hello Isaac? What’s up?” Stiles greeted. Isaac usually preferred to text so things were probably bad hence the call.</p><p>Stiles was greeted with a brief silence. Then, “There’s been a catastrophe,” Isaac declared, not quite sounding like himself.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I actually just…” Something was definitely wrong. Isaac sounded shaken up. Alarmed. Desperate.</p><p>“Yeah?” Stiles could hear his friend’s uneven breathing from the other side. “I-Isaac?” He prompted unsurely.</p><p>“I’m sorry I doubted you,” was the only response Stiles received before Isaac abruptly ended their call.</p><p>Stiles watched as his phone flickered back to his lock screen then released a puzzled, frustrated noise. “The heck was that about?” he muttered to himself while pocketing his phone.</p><p>“Are you… done with your call?” asked Derek from his spot behind Stiles, sounding very uncertain.</p><p>Stiles turned back to face Derek who was now once again clutching his water bottle, wringing it nervously in his hands. The werewolf had the same look on his face as before, right at the moment when he approached and tried to kiss Stiles. In hindsight, the human could now identify that look as one of determination.</p><p>Derek stepped forward again, trying to close the renewed gap between them. There was a stiffness and shakiness in his arms this time; Stiles wasn’t sure if it was because of nerves, anticipation, or the cool fall air they were standing in.</p><p>Stiles continued to stand in his spot, his eyes locked on Derek’s like a deer in headlights.</p><p>“Ah! There you are!”</p><p>Stiles may have jumped a foot in the air at the surprise arrival. He released a high pitched noise he didn’t know he could make before. Stiles experienced quite a few firsts that day, but thankfully not a kiss.</p><p>Liam ran up to Derek and Stiles, still all cheerfulness and smiles despite the late hour. “Paige said it’s about time we wrap up downstairs and settle the bill,” Liam declared. </p><p>Derek grunted and nodded in agreement.</p><p>“Oh! And Stiles, here’s the medicine you wanted,” Liam continued, handing something over to the human. It was the bottle of pink liquid he was offering Stiles earlier. The one the young werewolf bought after Stiles said he needed something to settle his stomach.</p><p>Stiles stuttered out his thanks. He was still pretty shaken up from what almost happened between him and Derek. It occurred to Stiles that Liam should be able to smell Derek’s scent on him after their brief physical contact. But it seemed like the younger werewolf did not notice since he looked none the wiser.</p><p>“S-shall we go then?”     asked Stiles, eager to rejoin the others and call it a night.</p><p>“Alright,” Derek agreed, gesturing for Liam to lead the way back. The younger man jogged ahead toward the nearest flight of stairs.</p><p>“Alright. To the afterparty!”</p><p>Stiles followed at a more sedate pace as Derek chuckled at his junior’s antics. He placed a hand in the middle of the human’s back.</p><p>
  <em> “I might have gotten a little carried away.” </em>
</p><p>“Oh,” Derek paused their walk briefly and turned toward Stiles. He gestured toward the bottle still in his hands, “Thanks for the water.”</p><p>
  <em> “We can continue this later.” </em>
</p><p>Derek held Stiles’ gaze, looking at him with warmth and familiarity. If Stiles couldn’t hear his thoughts, he wouldn’t have been able to identify the underlying current of want in there.</p><p>
  <em> “Now that I know I have a shot, I can take my time… hopefully, he might even feel the same way I do.” </em>
</p><p>With one final, dazzling, parting smile, Derek walked off after Liam. This left Stiles reeling at what he just heard, pathetically clutching a bottle of Pepto.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Two weeks have gone by since Stiles’ almost kiss with Derek Hale. </p><p>
  <em> Two weeks from the time he said we would continue things later. </em>
</p><p>Stiles entered their office building lobby, walked past the reception desk, and turned the corner toward the elevator bay only to find Derek patiently waiting for a lift while making small talk and exchanging pleasantries with a few other people. </p><p>It was like seeing Derek now brought out some sort of fight or flight response in Stiles. Though that wasn’t a very accurate description since Stiles almost exclusively chose flight. He flailed wildly before backtracking, hiding behind and hugging the wall of the corner he was just about to turn.</p><p>
  <em> Two weeks and all I’ve done is spend the whole time desperately avoiding being alone with Derek. </em>
</p><p>Stiles blew out a frustrated breath. He leaned back and ended up banging his head against the wall hard enough to smart.</p><p>It occurred to Stiles that Derek was pretty familiar with his scent and would have smelled and heard him coming. If the werewolf wasn’t clued into what he was doing yet, hearing him run and hide would definitely do it.</p><p>Stiles heard the bustle of Derek’s group boarding the elevator and, when he deemed it quiet and safe, left his hiding spot and approached the now empty elevator bay to wait for one of the lifts to return.</p><p>
  <em> Honestly, I’m afraid to try taking this any further… </em>
</p><p>Stiles could vividly recall just how hopeful Derek looked in his rare moment of stumbling through his words before settling on “Do you mean what I think you’re saying?” That was the point where he felt the beginnings of anxiety and nerves that made him want to cut and run when it came to Derek.</p><p>
  <em> I had no idea what was going on. It all started to feel too real, like Derek somehow reached in and touched something deep inside of me. </em>
</p><p>Stiles soon boarded an elevator but continued to relive the events of that night as their private moment rose to the surface of his mind, completely unbidden. He could feel himself breaking into a sweat.</p><p>
  <em> If someone hadn’t stopped us… if Liam hadn’t come… would we have… </em>
</p><p>Stiles swore he could still feel the tip of Derek’s nose against his own and the fanning of the werewolf’s breath against his face. It was too overwhelming. Stiles was aware there were other people in the elevator with him. But at that exact moment, he couldn’t help but…</p><p>“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!”</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>“—AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!” Isaac screamed, clutching at and raging against his book case, almost tipping it over from its spot on the wall. Clementine squeaked from the couch and ran off, startled. </p><p>After getting that out of his system, the werewolf leaned back against the same shelves and attempted to rationalize.</p><p>
  <em> Calm down. Okay, let’s go over the facts: </em>
</p><p>Isaac jerked his head around wildly as he thought, his curly hair now wild, crazy, and falling into his eyes.</p><p>
  <em> I suddenly developed the ability to read minds when I turned thirty. That much I can accept. I guess. But… </em>
</p><p>Isaac thought back to the good looking delivery man.</p><p>
  <em> “He actually seems a lot nicer than I thought, I guess.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Aren’t you lucky you’ve got this guy who loves you so much, cutie?” </em>
</p><p>Of course, how could Isaac forget the whine that rose from his throat in the presence of that guy.</p><p>
  <em> Why did I make that noise?! Why did my heart flutter?! </em>
</p><p>Isaac ran his fingers through his hair for what may as well have been the thousandth time that morning.</p><p>
  <em> Not only is he a man, but he looks like one of those gaudy, extroverted party animals I can’t stand! </em>
</p><p>An idea hit him; Isaac searched his desk frantically for his phone.</p><p>
  <em> I should talk to Stiles. No, I can’t. </em>
</p><p>Isaac dropped his phone like it burned him, quickly abandoning the idea as well.</p><p>
  <em> I realized when I called him yesterday. If I told him the truth now…  </em>
</p><p>Isaac could picture himself solemnly attempting to break the news to his friend. But the moment he would make physical contact, he’d probably hear something like:</p><p>
  <em> “What? He’s a virgin? Can’t believe he thought he could get away with acting like an authority on this until now.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I bet Stiles would think that. Then I… I… </em>
</p><p>Isaac didn’t even want to consider what he would have to do next. Though Stiles was whom he considered to be his closest friend, he didn’t know what to do if their relationship ever shifted because of this.</p><p>Isaac leaned back against his bookshelf and slumped down to the ground in defeat.</p><p>
  <em> I don’t — </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> — want this power! </em>
</p><p>Stiles leaned his forehead against the wall of the elevator he was facing. He was barely aware of the other passengers with him cautiously asking if he was okay after his outburst. He couldn’t bring himself to respond.</p><p>
  <em> Seriously. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Derek stood from his desk and stretched. Even a werewolf needed to work out the strain of staying seated for long periods of time. Derek grabbed his bag to make sure he had all the files he needed for his upcoming sales call.</p><p>“Hey Liam, you ready?” Derek called out to his junior, who was seated at one of the desks directly across from him.</p><p>The younger werewolf appeared to be of the same mind, pulling together his own folders and notes, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on the task at hand. “One quick second,” Liam responded, smiling up at Derek.</p><p>When Derek was done with his own preparations he decided to let his eyes wander, immediately glancing across the room at the data and stats team as he continued to wait for Liam. Derek was a bit disappointed to find Stiles’ desk empty. He could still smell the human’s scent fresh in the room so he was probably still around or just barely stepped out.</p><p>Derek was pulled back from his momentary distraction by Liam sidling up to him and staring expectantly. “Shall we go then?” Derek asked, to which Liam replied in the affirmative.</p><p>Derek treated himself to one last parting glance at Stiles’ desk before exiting the Nemeton office to meet a potential client.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles knew all this upheaval in his life started on his birthday. And being a shy wallflower for all of his life was one of the reasons he was so ill-equipped to deal with social problems. He was absolutely certain that he’d hit a new low in dealing with a problem by hiding under his desk.</p><p>Stiles had turned in his seat and his eyes were drawn to Derek, who had just gotten up and was shuffling things around his desk. Stiles ended up curiously watching the man for a while. The werewolf then looked up and almost caught him staring. Without even thinking, Stiles scrambled right out of his seat onto all fours and crawled into his desk’s leg space.</p><p>Stiles’ co-workers sitting on the adjacent, neighboring desks gave him curious looks but thankfully did not comment. It wasn’t until Greenberg turned in his seat from across the aisle, most likely to ask him a question, only to spot him in his sad, huddled state.</p><p>“The fu…? Stilinski?” the older man asked unsurely. “You good?”</p><p>Stiles hunkered down further, a bit embarrassed among other things.</p><p>“You got a stomach ache or something?” Greenberg ventured.</p><p>“I’m pathetic,” Stiles mumbled to himself pitifully.</p><p>Stiles couldn’t really stick around after Greenberg seemed genuinely concerned and uncharacteristically started mothering him. Stiles didn’t usually take his lunch until his fifth hour of work, that way most people have already taken their breaks and there weren’t that many people in the lunchroom. But he couldn’t really deal with Greenberg asking if he was cold and needed something warm to drink at the time.</p><p>So to get away, Stiles went on his thirty minute break a little earlier than usual. The lunch room was fairly crowded and lively but he was mostly left alone to his ham and cheese sandwich to further contemplate his current predicament.</p><p>
  <em> I thought I wanted to get to know Derek, but I got cold feet again. </em>
</p><p>Stiles slumped down in his seat and released a big sigh. He frowned and turned in his seat when he realized he wasn’t the only one who did, though the other one was higher and notably more feminine. Stiles peered over at the neighboring table to come face-to-face with an equally curious Kira.</p><p>Ever good-humored, the kitsune laughed warmly, which Stiles couldn’t help but return.</p><p>“Jinx,” Kira, said playfully.</p><p>“Y-yeah.” Stiles sat silently, watching Kira uncap her thermos and take a sip. Figuring there was probably a reason for her sigh, Stiles decided to tentatively ask, “Did something happen?”</p><p>Kira sat silently for a few beats, carefully thinking before she spoke. “It’s nothing serious. My mom’s driving down from Berkeley to visit me soon.”</p><p>Stiles hummed thoughtfully and Kira continued.</p><p>“I’ve spent the past week kind of dreading it a bit,” Kira admitted.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>
  <em> That’s surprising. </em>
</p><p>Stiles took Kira in properly. He considered her neat, office-appropriate appearance to the delicious looking lunch she brought that was packed into a cute little bento box.</p><p>
  <em> Kira seems very wholesome and family-oriented. I would have assumed she and her parents get along. </em>
</p><p>Stiles probably had a look on his face when Kira took glanced at him and said, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wouldn’t know how to react either.”</p><p>Stiles didn’t want her to think she was overstepping. “It’s fine.”</p><p>Braeden, who was also eating at Kira’s table and had stayed silent during their exchange, spoke up. “I know exactly how you feel, my mom’s the exact same way,” she stated, nodding sagely, “I get that they’re concerned, but it’s so annoying.”</p><p>Paige was also at their table and joined in. “‘Do you have a boyfriend?’, ‘When are you getting married?’ And of course, ‘Give me some grandchildren.’,” she rattled off all in a mocking voice of whom Stiles would assume was her mom. Braeden made a noise of agreement.</p><p>Kira had her back turned toward Stiles again, properly facing the two women, but he could see her small nod. “Right?” she agreed.</p><p>Stiles wasn’t quite sure why he was still turned around in his seat and facing their group when clearly his part of the conversation was over. Kira had returned to speaking with her lunch companions, after all.</p><p>
  <em> Oh no. I don’t really have anything to say here. Pretty sure I don’t have anything of value to add to this conversation. </em>
</p><p>Braeden set her drink down after taking a swig and continued. “My family lives out in the desert further south — kind of a smaller farm town — and whenever my mom comes out here, she has phone numbers and Instagram profiles of townies she wants to set me up with.” She looked and sounded pretty frustrated just remembering.</p><p>Stiles absently heard Paige remark “Seriously?”</p><p>Kira shifted in her seat and revealed, “My mom actually already tried that. Just this past summer.” </p><p>“Yikes.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>Braeden got the glimmer of an idea in her eyes. “Why don’t you find someone to pretend to be your boyfriend?” She craned her neck and made eye contact with Stiles, rapping the table with her nails excitedly. “I know. Stilinski, you can be Kira’s fake boyfriend!”</p><p>Now Stiles really regretted loitering around and getting pulled back into their conversation.</p><p>“What? I don’t know about that,” he rambled nervously, starting to feel hot around the collar. Kira turned her head and watched him out of the corner of her eye.</p><p>Braeden didn’t seem to hear him, she was now addressing Kira again. “Then your mom will stop worrying and get off your back about this.”</p><p>“Yeah, totally,” Paige chimed in again.</p><p>Braeden got a little saucy smirk on her face and continued, “Then if the fake dating ever stops being fake, then that would be all right, too.” Both she and Paige dissolved into giggles.</p><p>Stiles couldn’t believe he was getting into yet another mess. “What? But —”</p><p>Braeden leaned forward, gauging Kira’s reaction. “Well?” she looked to Paige for support then back at the kitsune, “It’s a good idea, right?”</p><p>Kira tapped her chopsticks thoughtfully against the rim of her lunchbox then nodded once. “Yeah. I might ask if it comes down to it,” Kira ended her statement in an upward inflection, turning to Stiles to see if he would be okay with it.</p><p>“What?!”</p><p>Braeden winked at him, “You heard her.” The women giggled again with Kira joining in this time. Stiles was pretty sure he was staring at their group with eyes the size of dinner plates. He swallowed nervously.</p><p>Stiles felt increasingly flustered, especially with Braeden and Paige remarking that they would make a good couple and about how visibly embarrassed he was. Stiles was saved from lingering in this moment when Greenberg of all people walked in.</p><p>“Kira, Stilinski, could you go run an errand for me when you’re done with lunch?”</p><p>Kira replied in the affirmative. Stiles was still a bit too stunned but he managed a nod.</p><p>“Thanks.” Greenberg made his leave, waving at them both.</p><p>
  <em> Wait, what just happened? Huh? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>After lunch, Stiles and Kira were tasked to go pick up an office order of some sweets from a patisserie a couple blocks away. Nemeton was expecting some bigwig from one of their bigger accounts to drop by. So naturally, they were making preparations and pulling out all the stops on their hospitality. Greenberg also asked them to stop by some health food place in the vicinity to pick up a few items for him.</p><p>Stiles carried Greenberg’s purchases and Kira perused the display case of luxurious and appetizing baked treats while they waited for their order to be completed. Kira was marveling at each and every dessert she came across which gave Stiles time to himself to sort through his thoughts.</p><p><em> I’m sure other men would misunderstand that conversation. </em> </p><p>In a way, maybe it was a good thing that Stiles of all people got roped into some fake boyfriend situation. If it was all for appearances, he could probably try and manage. It could have easily been Daehler, who was known as the office creep. Had it been him, the guy would have probably started pursuing Kira aggressively for real.</p><p>Kira ultimately settled on some slices of cake she wanted to enjoy at home. Her purchases were rung up and she busied herself with counting out some change from her wallet.</p><p>The person at the front counter moved off to the side to package Kira’s items. It seemed like a slow afternoon since only Stiles and his colleague were currently in the shop’s lobby.</p><p>“Stiles, I’m sorry.”</p><p>Stiles quickly turned his head to stare at Kira, unsure if he heard her right. She still had an easy smile on her face and was not looking back at him. Instead, she continued to peruse the desserts on display.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Kira elaborated.</p><p>“Oh. Don’t worry about it,” Stiles replied simply. Internally, he felt significantly more calm than when the day began.</p><p>
  <em> Man, that was close. This is such a relief. </em>
</p><p>“But that couldn’t have been pleasant,” Kira replied, clearly having detected his discomfort during their lunchroom conversation.</p><p>“Well, I mean, I know how everyone our age loves to talk about relationships and dating and stuff,” Stiles explained, trying to show he truly was fine, especially with this outcome.</p><p>“Hm?” Kira hummed curiously.</p><p>“To be completely honest, I just think there’s a lot more to life than that,” Stiles stated simply. “At my age, I’ve found my life can still be pretty fun without any romance or love,” he concluded.</p><p>Stiles found Kira to be a pretty easygoing coworker but he was still a little nervous about his admission. He chose not to look at her while he spoke, now instead browsing the sweets on display interestedly as well.</p><p>Stiles didn’t see the unreadable look on Kira’s face as she took in his words. She smiled to herself and replied, “I see.”</p><p>The shop attendant returned with both orders ready and handed them to Kira, who offered her very genuine thanks in return. </p><p>Stiles knew Kira was physically stronger than he was and had abilities he could only dream of but his dad did raise him with some sense of chivalry. Stiles was aware that it was a little old fashioned but Kira could just decline his help if she didn’t need it and that was that. “I could carry those for you,” he offered.</p><p>Kira’s smile grew wider and moved closer, handing the bags over. “You sure? Thanks.”</p><p>Stiles moved to take the handles of the paper bag. Kira’s fingertips made contact with his palm.</p><p>
  <em> “I really like Stiles.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Huh? Did she just say she likes me? </em>
</p><p>“That’s everything,” said Kira, cataloguing all their purchases briefly. “Shall we go?” She moved toward the big glass doors of the shop.</p><p>Blindsided yet again, Stiles managed to reply in agreement. “Ah, okay.”</p><p>He continued to stand at the same spot for a beat. First Derek and now Kira? Stiles allowed himself to entertain an idea he would never have considered before.</p><p>
  <em> Is this what being popular feels like? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>The duo walked back toward their office building in relative silence.  A lot happened that afternoon and Stiles wasted no time falling back into his thoughts.</p><p><em> Kira? Does </em> Kira <em> really like me? </em></p><p>Stiles had been through the therapy song-and-dance on and off enough times. So he knew one of the first steps of navigating something this unfamiliar was to identify how he felt about it.</p><p><em> Honestly, this is actually kind of exciting. </em> Stiles smiled to himself discreetly.</p><p>
  <em> But… wait. Yes, it’s exciting. But it’s different from what I expected. </em>
</p><p>Stiles stopped walking to further ponder that moment. Yes, it was exciting to know he was liked or wanted. But it’s like there was something missing.</p><p>
  <em> I thought being liked by a pretty girl would invoke a more significant response… maybe make my heart beat a little faster. </em>
</p><p>Excited. And flattered. That’s how Stiles felt. And despite knowing Kira was beautiful and was a sweet and friendly person, Stiles realized he didn’t quite reciprocate any feelings back.</p><p>Stiles was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard the sound of people bumping into each other then a surprised and alarmed squeak from Kira. Stiles startled out of his thoughts to check on his coworker.</p><p>“Hey, that hurt!”</p><p>Stiles caught the moment the two strangers clocked who they were dealing with. Kira was undoubtedly powerful as a kitsune but Stiles was sure he had never seen her mad in the years they worked together. She also definitely looked very gentle and demure. There were people out there who would try to take advantage of that. </p><p>“She’s cute,” one of the men commented.</p><p>Stiles hadn’t been paying attention so he wasn’t sure who bumped into whom. But the posturing and aggressive body language from the two men toward Kira were totally uncalled for when it came to something that was most definitely an accident.</p><p>The shorter of the two approached Kira in a manner Stiles could only describe as predatory. The man clutched at his own arm, apparently the spot she bumped into, and simpered, “Hey, miss. That hurt when you bumped into my shoulder.”</p><p>
  <em> Yikes, he’s crude. These two look like a couple of douchebags. </em>
</p><p>“I’m sorry. Are you alright?” Kira asked, looking genuinely concerned.</p><p>“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the taller man interjected, “You call that an apology?”</p><p>Stiles knew it would be the right thing to intervene. He should definitely go help out his colleague… at the very least he should try and make sure that the situation didn’t devolve into a physical altercation. But he was also terrified; his feet felt like they were rooted to where he stood.</p><p>
  <em> I can’t. I’m scared! But…  </em>
</p><p>The shorter of the two men spoke up again, “How about you make it up to us by coming with us for a drink?” He then reached over, clearly overstepping his boundaries, looped an arm around Kira’s shoulders and tried to tug her along. The taller man was reaching for her arm as well.</p><p>“No, no, wait a second.” Kira sounded absolutely panicked.</p><p>“Come on, let’s go. I know a nice place.”</p><p>Stiles could feel his heartbeat in his throat. He was absolutely terrified. But he forced himself forward; he needed to try and help Kira.</p><p>“W-wait a minute!” Stiles yelled, reaching for the shorter man’s arm and removing his grip from Kira’s sweater. His presence was clearly unwelcome, given how both men were now looking at him like something they could easily and would gladly dismember. Still, he placed himself between them and Kira.</p><p>Stiles felt like he might swallow his tongue. But he had to try to de-escalate somehow. “She a-apologized, right?”</p><p>Kira was clearly shaken but he could still feel her presence at his shoulder. “Stiles,” she said his name, reaching for his arm, concern for his well-being clear in her voice.</p><p>“What? Who the hell are you?” the shorter man demanded, taking several steps into Stiles’ space. He was speaking through a mouthful of fangs and his eyes were taking on a blue hue. A were. This guy was clearly the leader.</p><p>Ignoring the question, Stiles pressed on, “Okay. M-maybe we were careless just now. But, y-you’re the one who ran into her, though.”</p><p>Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. The taller man placed one threatening hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Huh? What was that?” he said, daring Stiles to repeat his statement. The man was sneering at him with multiple rows of sharp teeth and milky white eyes. Thankfully, this guy didn’t have claws since Stiles did not feel any on his skin through his suit jacket.</p><p>One thing was clear though: both of these men were dangerous and knew it.</p><p>“You’re saying this was <em> our </em> fault?”</p><p>Stiles thought of stating it plainly: yes, he did. But he couldn’t muster the courage to do so.</p><p>The taller man clearly took his silence as confirmation. One second, Stiles was being loomed over, next thing he knew, he was being shoved to the ground.</p><p>Stiles felt his knees buckle, roughly landing on his butt and somewhat catching himself with one hand. Kira rushed to his side.</p><p>“Stiles, are you okay?!”</p><p>
  <em> I really shouldn’t have left my comfort zone. But there’s no use backing out now. </em>
</p><p>Stiles managed to pull himself up on shaky legs and faced the two shifters again. He could hear the tremor in his own voice as he spoke. “Wh-what I’m trying to say is that I think we’re both at fault here.”</p><p>“What?” The shorter man took a step closer, his eyes a blazing electric blue.</p><p>“Uh, I mean —”</p><p>“Both of us? What do you mean by both of us?” The taller man didn’t give Stiles a chance to answer; he wound up for a punch.</p><p>Stiles couldn’t run. He squeezed his eyes shut and flinched away, desperately hoping for Kira and himself to get out of this in one piece.</p><p>The punch never made contact.</p><p>Stiles felt a warm presence against his back. A protective arm looped around his shoulders and across his front. He felt himself pivot on his spot, his rescuer turning him just out of range of the attacker’s fist.</p><p>This close, Stiles could smell the familiar pine, woodsy scent that reminded him of the preserve from back home. Though faint, it was a scent he had been gradually re-exposed to over the course of the past several weeks.</p><p>Stiles squinted his eyes open and turned his head to catch a glimpse of his savior.</p><p>Sure enough, Derek was there.</p><p>Derek continued to clutch Stiles to himself protectively. Derek always had those expressive eyebrows but this was the first time Stiles had ever seen them look so dark and menacing.</p><p>Stiles also realized that Derek managed to catch the punch meant for him in his other hand. Stiles swore he heard a puzzled noise escape the man who just tried to harm him.</p><p>Derek leveled the taller shifter with a glare, his fingers gripping the man’s wrist firmly. “Excuse me,” Derek bit out.</p><p>
  <em> “Keep your hands off Stiles.” </em>
</p><p>“Ow, ow, ow!” the taller shifter yelled, trying to pull his arm out of Derek’s grip. The werewolf was clearly crushing the man’s wrist but given how Derek’s face had gone back to a relaxed, passive look, Stiles wouldn’t have been able to tell otherwise.</p><p>Derek now actually had a smirk playing on his lips. “Did my colleagues here cause you any trouble?” he asked innocently.</p><p>Either the taller man finally managed to pull himself free or Derek felt nice enough to let go because both harassers took the chance to bolt; they were suddenly several feet away and only continued to gain more distance.</p><p>“Come on, let’s get out of here,” the shorter man yelled, him and his buddy scurrying away with their proverbial tails between their legs.</p><p>Derek continued to watch them go, making sure the threat had long departed. Stiles kept his gaze low, proceeding to pick up the bags he dropped when he was knocked down.</p><p>“They’re gone,” Derek announced, turning toward both Kira and Stiles.</p><p>“Thank you for stepping in Derek,” Kira said gratefully. “Sorry for the trouble.”</p><p>“It was no trouble at all,” Derek replied, wavin the notion away. “Just an unlucky, unfortunate encounter.”</p><p>Derek turned toward Stiles fully, sweeping his gaze up and down the human, checking for any injuries. “Stiles, are you okay?”</p><p>Stiles’ heartbeat was starting to slow down, embarrassment now settling into his gut. “Yeah,” he replied softly, staring at his feet.</p><p>Derek chuckled warmly and took a couple of steps closer. “Your hair is kind of a mess,” he observed. He raised both hands within Stiles’ view and gently asked, “May I?”</p><p>With a small, almost imperceptible node from Stiles, Derek began to gently sweep his bangs out of his forehead.</p><p>
  <em> “I’m so glad he’s okay.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles felt Derek’s concern spread over him like a warm blanket as the werewolf’s fingers brushed through the strands of his hair. Stiles continued to stand still and listen.</p><p><em> “If anything had happened to Stiles, I…” </em>Derek trailed off; like he didn’t even want to consider that outcome as a valid possibility.</p><p>Stiles was vaguely aware of Kira standing there, watching them both patiently as Derek continued to fix Stiles up. </p><p>Derek’s hands continued their task of guiding and coaxing the mop on Stiles’ head toward the way he usually wore it. When he was satisfied with his work, Derek gently placed both his hands on either of Stiles’ shoulders for one last inspection before he gave a nod of approval and pulled away.</p><p>Derek turned toward Kira again, “You’re both headed back to the office, right?” At hers and Stiles’ nods, he jerked his head in the direction heading back to their building. “Let’s go.”</p><p>Derek moved to grab his bag, which he dropped before rushing in to help. He offered to hold one of the bags Kira had in her hands that wasn’t her purse.</p><p>
  <em> I feel the stark difference in these moments. </em>
</p><p>They began their trek back. Derek started to chat with Kira as he curiously peered into the bag he received from her.</p><p>
  <em> I tried to be helpful, but ultimately I couldn’t do anything. I ended up needing to be saved too. </em>
</p><p>Derek correctly guessed that the bag containing nothing but rice cakes was in fact for Greenberg. He laughed, his mouth curled into a big smile and his eyes crinkling at the corners.</p><p>
  <em> On the other hand, Derek does everything perfectly. And it all looks so effortless on his part. </em>
</p><p>“That definitely sounds like Greenberg,” Derek quipped.</p><p>
  <em> The fact of the matter is: we’re just… fundamentally different. </em>
</p><p>They’d made it back to the lobby and were now waiting for an elevator to take them back up to the tenth floor. Keeping with the exercise of properly identifying his emotions, Stiles managed to arrive at a breakthrough of sorting through his complicated feelings about himself and Derek’s affections.</p><p>
  <em> This is why I’ve been so afraid and hesitant this whole time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If I take the chance and let Derek in… I’m afraid I’m not as great a person as he thinks I am.  </em>
</p><p><em> If I get any more deeply involved with him and he sees that I’m me… that I’m… </em> this <em> … I’m afraid that I’ll just end up disappointing him. </em></p><p>
  <em> After all, I’m not at all like Derek. And Derek isn’t like me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He’s perfect. He has everything. At least, everything that I don’t have. </em>
</p><p>Soon enough, a lift arrived and Stiles stalked in after Kira. Derek, true to form, held the doors open until everyone else waiting with them had boarded as well. There was enough room for him to squeeze in, though he ended up on the adjacent wall from where Stiles and Kira stood.</p><p>Kira leaned back against their wall and swayed slightly, pressing her shoulder into Stiles’ arm.</p><p><em> “It’s totally</em> the biggest<em> crush.” </em></p><p>Stiles was pulled out of his thinking and wallowing to turn toward Kira. Right. There was that too.</p><p>
  <em> Aww, hell! I almost forgot I also have this to deal with! Does Kira really like me? Even after I just embarrassed myself out there?</em>
</p><p>Stiles snuck glances at the kitsune, willing for some answer to come and slightly uncomplicate his life.</p><p>
  <em> “Yeah… that’s definitely it. Derek has the largest crush on Stiles.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Huh? </em>
</p><p>Stiles fully turned to stare at Kira but she was staring unwaveringly right at Derek.</p><p>
  <em> What? Has Kira noticed his feelings for me? </em>
</p><p>Stiles darted his eyes between his two colleagues. Slowly but surely, Derek turned his head, eventually meeting his gaze. The werewolf offered him a comforting smile. Stiles found himself grinning back briefly.</p><p>Kira’s thoughts continued.</p><p>
  <em> “Stiles is such a great guy and I hope he can be happy. I think Derek would be good for him. But I think he’ll be fine even if he never falls in love.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Huh? What does that mean —? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I like Stiles. I like that he agrees that life isn’t all about falling in love.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles blinked. Whenever he expressed that opinion, he had always been met with sympathetic smiles and a vague notion of him finding his happy ending with someone someday. This would be the first time anyone has taken away something else from his words. Validation?</p><p>
  <em> “He probably won’t think much of it if I said I’m not that interested in romance, either.” </em>
</p><p>Stiles could feel as well as hear Kira’s sigh from right next to him.</p><p>
  <em> “Not that it matters what everyone else says, anyway. I’ve gotten used to pretending and making excuses that I just haven’t found much time to date. It’s kind of second nature to me now.” </em>
</p><p>Their elevator made several stops on their trek up the building, letting people on and off. Stiles took the moment to consider what he learned about his coworker.</p><p>
  <em> Kira… my first impression of her was that she was basically made of sunshine and was always so considerate. </em>
</p><p>Stiles took the moment to think back on their interactions and his observations of her through the past few years. He couldn’t ever think of a moment with Kira in which she didn’t have a bright smile on her face.</p><p>
  <em> In hindsight, she may have been using that smile as armor, like a way to protect herself. </em>
</p><p>The elevator finally reached their floor and they exited along with a few other people. Kira glanced at her watch and gasped, “We ended up taking a while. I really hope Greenberg isn’t mad.”</p><p>Stiles pressed his lips into a thin line as he thought of all the times he could have been there for Kira throughout the day. He was too chicken to pretend to be her boyfriend so she gave him an out. He couldn’t even get them both safely away from those two clowns earlier.</p><p>
  <em>I’m useless. It’s like there’s nothing I can do to help. </em>
</p><p>Stiles clenched his fists and was met with a stab of pain that caught him by surprise. He bit out a groan at the sensation, which drew the attention of his companions.</p><p>Kira and Derek, who were walking a few paces ahead, quickly turned to face him. “Is something wrong?” The kitsune asked.</p><p>The human tried to brush off their concern but Derek swept him with another assessing gaze and zeroed in on where he was gripping one of their purchases.</p><p>“Stiles, your hand.”</p><p>Stiles lifted his hand to his face and sure enough, he spotted an injury he had apparently sustained, most likely when he tried to catch himself as he fell. The skin on the innermost part of his palm was red, raw, and bleeding slightly.</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>Stiles found himself seated at a table in their break room’s annex. Derek was seated next to him, a large first aid kit on the table in front of them.</p><p>As soon as they all realized he was injured, Derek took charge, a muscle twitching in his set jaw. He passed the bags they were carrying to Kira, who went ahead to the main office to drop off Greenberg’s purchases and prepare the pastries for their visiting client’s arrival.</p><p>“This is nothing,” Stiles murmured to his companion, once again trying to brush off concern.</p><p>“It’s not nothing,” Derek replied firmly. “We need to clean and dress the wound,” he added, leaving no further room for argument. Derek undid the clasps on the first aid box and started to rummage through. He pulled out some alcohol wipes, antiseptic cream, and a large bandage.</p><p>Stiles sat and watched Derek work for a bit. Then, “I’m sorry. For... everything.”</p><p>Derek had been wearing a pinched expression on his face. At Stiles’ words, Derek softened his features and offered him a small smile. “Let me see your hand.”</p><p>Stiles obeyed and placed his hand on the table, palm-side up.</p><p>
  <em> Derek’s always wears a perfect, dazzling smile and his kindness is unfailing.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He is so considerate, it kind of makes me mad. If I were even slightly more like Derek, I don’t think I would have any reason to be disappointed in myself. </em>
</p><p>Derek busied himself with opening one of the wipes.</p><p>Derek slipped a hand under Stiles’ to steadily grip his wrist. Carefully and thoroughly, Derek started to dab at the abrasion on his palm.</p><p>
  <em> “I messed up.” </em>
</p><p><em> Huh? </em>Stiles sat carefully still as he continued to listen.</p><p>
  <em> “Here I am again, probably annoying him. Inserting myself where I don’t belong: treating his hand, breaking up that fight.” </em>
</p><p>The werewolf moved on to applying some antiseptic ointment on a sterile pad and applying that to the scrape as well. Stiles watched Derek’s face as he worked. It looked like his brow was furrowed in concentration. But Stiles knew better.</p><p>
  <em> “I just act before I even realize it. When I’m around Stiles, I lose all sense of composure.” </em>
</p><p>Derek ripped open the package containing the bandage. He began to carefully dress Stiles’ injury.</p><p>
  <em> “But it’s better than doing nothing. I don’t think I can do anything toward these feelings I have. But I at least want to be around to help Stiles.” </em>
</p><p>Derek smoothed the adhesive strips into place, making sure the bandage was carefully and securely applied.</p><p>
  <em> “But I’m pretty sure I’m just putting him off even more…” </em>
</p><p>“And that… should… do it,” Derek declared, releasing Stiles’ wrist and moving smoothly to packing the first aid kit back up. Derek grabbed the handles of the box and got up, taking it with him.</p><p>“Well, I should go. Need to get ready for that big meeting.” Derek smoothly moved around Stiles’ still seated form and approached the exit.</p><p>A chaos of emotions were once again swirling around inside Stiles, desperately trying to make sense of Derek’s thoughts. One thing was currently clear to him: Derek was being too harsh toward himself. Stiles wanted to help however he could.</p><p>“Derek,” Stiles called out, rising from his seat. The werewolf stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. There was a flash of weariness in Derek’s eyes before his gaze turned curious.</p><p>“Thank you,” Stiles stated simply, trying to convey his gratitude as well as he could in those two words. “I really appreciate your help.”</p><p>Stiles fidgeted slightly and raised his injured limb briefly. “Thanks for treating my hand, and… you know… for earlier. It was really lucky that you came by when you did.”</p><p>Derek appeared to consider his words for a moment. Then a bright, tender smile bloomed across his features. When Derek was particularly happy, his smile always reached his eyes, Stiles noted.</p><p>“It’s really not that big a deal,” Derek replied, absently kicking at the carpet.</p><p>Stiles considered his work done with the radiant smile that was on Derek’s face as he made his leave. “See you in a bit,” the werewolf said as he exited the annex.</p><p>
  <em> I kind of stupidly just assumed he was perfect. </em>
</p><p>Stiles stared down at his injured hand, cleaned and dressed with care. He exited the annex as well, walking down the hall toward the main offices.</p><p>
  <em> But he worries and gets anxious too, just like me. Like anyone, I guess.</em>
</p><p>Anxiety was a feeling Stiles knew too well. In fact, his newfound power has caused him nothing but. There was another side to it he hadn’t quite considered though.</p><p>
  <em> In that case, there might be something I can do with this, after all. </em>
</p><p>“Oh, Stiles, is your hand okay?”</p><p>Stiles turned to see Kira rushing toward him, a look of concern clear on her face.</p><p>“Yeah,” he replied, showing her his bandaged hand briefly.</p><p>Kira seemed to sag with relief. “Good.” They both continued down the hall together, matching each other’s pace.</p><p>Stiles recalled the nerves that were plaguing Kira at lunch. He also thought back to what he learned about her in the elevator. He stopped in his tracks. “Hey Kira?”</p><p>The kitsune had walked several paces ahead of Stiles but she paused and turned to face him as well. “Hmm?” Kira inquired.</p><p>Stiles swallowed nervously. “I’d be happy to meet your mom for you.”</p><p>Kira considered his words, recalling their lunchtime conversation as well. She chuckled lightly, “No, you don’t have to pretend to be my boyfriend —”</p><p>“No, not like that,” Stiles declared. He cleared his throat before he continued, “‘As far as I can tell, Kira works really hard and looks happy and fulfilled with her life out here. So there’s nothing to worry about.’”</p><p>Kira looked puzzled at first. Then a look of understanding crossed her face.</p><p>“That’s what I can tell her. Your mom, I mean,” Stiles concluded.</p><p>Kira remained silent. But the look on her face spoke volumes. She couldn’t quite put into words how seen, understood, and valid she felt.</p><p>“Oh, sorry,” Stiles fidgeted slightly, “What am I even saying… only if it’s something you’re comfortable with, of course.” He rubbed his hands together nervously, forgetting his recent injury. “Ow,” he mumbled to himself.</p><p>“No…” Kira replied gently, regaining her ability to speak. “Thank you. I may just ask you to do that someday,” she continued before beaming at Stiles.</p><p>Feeling satisfied with easing Kira’s worries as well, Stiles trudged on, once again walking alongside the kitsune. After a few steps of companionable silence, Kira turned to him again, “Ah, Greenberg asked me to do something else for him. Mind helping me out with that too?”</p><p>Stiles gave a goofy, exaggerated nod, “Yeah, I’m down for anything!”</p><p>Kira fixed him with a look. “Anything?” she asked teasingly.</p><p>Stiles shrugged easily, “Sure.”</p><p>“Then I guess I’ll ask for your help with <em> everything </em>then.”</p><p>They continued on their way back, laughing together as they worked on their next task.</p><p>
  <em> I still kind of wish I didn’t have this power. But… everytime I touch someone, I learn something about them that I never expected.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And that makes me want to get to know them even more. Maybe even help them out however I can. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Though I hate to admit it, for a while, I’ve been in a rut… stuck at a standstill.  </em>
</p><p>Stiles and Kira made their return to the main bullpen after stopping at the records room. They both arrived carrying a pile of binders and folders that Greenberg requested.</p><p>
  <em> This may be the chance to break out of it that I’ve been looking for. </em>
</p><p>They ended up stopping next to Liam and Greenberg, who were huddled together and watching something across the room. Both men looked nervous, wearing twin looks of apprehension.</p><p>“Is something wrong?” Stiles asked.</p><p>Greenberg sidled closer to him and explained. “Hale messed up.”</p><p>Stiles raised his eyebrows. Kira was nearby and clearly overheard since she made a noise of surprise. Derek messing up was practically unheard of. </p><p>Sure enough, Stiles followed Greenberg’s gaze toward their conference room. He could see two figures inside through the panes of glass that made up the walls. One was an older man of about fifty years. His hair was a little wild and definitely looked out of place in a business meeting. He sat silently, his overall demeanor definitely suggested that he was not pleased.</p><p>The other figure inside was in fact Derek. He clearly looked worried and his body language showed he was trying to be placating. He was speaking but Stiles could not hear him.</p><p>“This is bad,” said Liam, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this guy so angry before.”</p><p>Despite what were clearly Derek’s best efforts, the visiting client wasn’t very forthcoming on what was wrong. He continued to sit silently, crossing his arms pointedly over his chest.</p><p>Derek leaned against the large table in the room, looking puzzled and seemingly giving up.</p><p>Seeing Derek look so defeated spurred Stiles on to do something, anything. He took a deep breath, pulled his shoulders back and thrust the pile of binders in his arms toward Greenberg.</p><p>Greenberg wasn’t at all ready to accept them and ended up fumbling them all to the floor.</p><p>Stiles strode purposefully toward the conference room, Derek, and their guest. He felt uncharacteristically confident. But the way Stiles saw it, the universe dropped this strange power in his lap for whatever unknown reason. He might as well start using it for good.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finally got this chapter up! Between actual work and budgeting time to work on this, the chapter didn’t work up as quickly as I hoped.</p><p>Though unnamed, the two creeps Stiles and Kira encountered are based off Theo and Donovan.</p><p>Not the best place to end this for Derek’s sake! I’m hoping to have the next chapter up sooner rather than later.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. I Drew A Stop Line by Myself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stiles tries to help Derek.</p>
<p>Liam might be on to something.</p>
<p>Stiles makes assumptions and gets stuck in his own head.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Spoken dialogue will be in quotations.<br/>Thoughts of POV character will be italicized.<br/>Thoughts that Stiles can hear will be in quotations and italicized.</p>
<p>The characters and premise of Teen Wolf were created by Jeff Davis and belong to MTV.</p>
<p>The plot for this story is heavily adapted from the TV drama Cherry Magic! 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!, which is owned by TV Tokyo and Square Enix. The drama is in turn adapted from a manga of the same name, created by Yuu Toyota.</p>
<p>None of this is mine. The only thing I would call my own is the desire to see this sweet, wholesome story applied to one of my favorite ships that led to me writing this.</p>
<p>Do not repost this work on other sites.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“May I ask if we did anything to offend you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was just about ready to break into a cold sweat. He had just been entrusted with this big account. He did his homework and prepared as thoroughly as possible. The office went all out to make sure this guy felt welcome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles almost got a concussion just picking up the pastries Nemeton ordered for this visit. And this guy chooses today of all days to sit there, sulk, and take his bad mood out on them?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell is Finstock playing at?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bobby Finstock was the president of Coach’s Sporting Goods, a company that was on the rise and slowly gaining brand recognition up there with similar stores like Dick’s or Big 5. Nemeton won the contract to provide their office supplies and stationery letterhead. Nemeton also provided them with custom pens and sticky notes with Coach’s logo printed on to give out at conventions and events.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finstock was a pretty unusual guy to begin with. Despite the busy schedule he would have to keep as the president of a successful business, he liked to personally check in once a year with other companies he was in business with. This day was his scheduled Nemeton visit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Back in the conference room, Finstock did not respond to Derek. He had his usual wild-eyed look on his face as he sat in his seat and grumbled to himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“President Finstock,” said Derek, going for another attempt to salvage the disaster of a meeting. “Please know that I deeply apologize if there was anything we’ve done in the past that you have found to be unsatisfactory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finstock dropped his gaze down to the pastry sitting on the dish in front of him, leaving both the dessert and the fork provided completely untouched. He grumbled again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Upsetting Finstock is a big no-no,” Stiles overheard one of his colleagues in the data entry team as he walked past. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hale is probably done here if he loses this contract.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was somewhat aware of Kira calling out to him. He had passed the stack of binders he was carrying over to Greenberg and it didn’t seem like the guy was ready to accept them. Stiles was pretty sure he had fumbled just about everything to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Stiles drew closer to the conference room doors, he crossed paths with Braeden carrying a tray carrying a warm drink in a mug, among other things. Stiles figured that they were most likely intended for Finstock. Stiles drew closer to her and held his hands out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can take those in for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Braeden looked confused. “What? But —”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles held onto the end of the tray closest to him but it looked like Braeden was set on dropping off the items herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do it,” Stiles said, trying to sound firm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Braeden still looked confused but eventually, she acquiesced. She released the tray and moved back to a more discreet vantage point to watch the goings on in Derek’s meeting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stared at the contents of the tray. There was a large mug with what appeared to be a hot Americano from their espresso machine. There were also some sides of cream and sugar as well as a rolled up hot towel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If I can read President Finstock’s mind and figure out why he’s mad…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stepped toward the glass doors of the conference room and peered in. He was immediately met with Finstock’s grumpy, wild-eyed stare. Stiles stopped in his tracks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles fidgeted, clearly nervous. Sufficiently intimidated, he turned away, briefly catching a glimpse of Derek. The werewolf looked properly lost and hopeless, grimly staring at his hands on the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why am I getting cold feet now? Especially when I can’t even keep track of all the ways Derek has helped me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles turned his head, taking in just how defeated Derek looked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek shared his data with me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek stood up to Greenberg for my sake.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just today, Derek saved me from being beaten to a pulp.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s my turn. If I see any opportunity to help him, I’m taking it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles strode purposefully back to the conference room doors and let himself in. “Excuse me,” he said, announcing his presence. Both Derek and Finstock turned to acknowledge him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles walked around the table over to Finstock’s side. He slowed his stride as he approached the other human.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay. Attempt number one.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he moved closer, Stiles extended his hand, slowly reaching out toward the older man’s shoulder. But it was like Finstock had eyes in the back of his head. He turned to look at Stiles and stared suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. Stiles aborted the movement and drew back slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s hot in here,” said Finstock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s. Hot. In. Here,” Finstock repeated, giving Stiles a proper glare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles scurried over to the thermostat and adjusted the temperature. He could hear the AC hum to life as it started to cool the room down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That didn’t work. In that case… </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles moved to Finstock’s other side, bending to set the tray down at the head of the table. Derek took a step back to give Stiles some room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles set the dish containing the cream and sugar near the pastry on a plate then grabbed the handle of the mug containing the warm drink and moved to set it down. He noticed that Finstock was drumming a slow beat on the tabletop with his fingertips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Attempt number two.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles purposefully set the mug down right in front of Finstock. Then moved to </span>
  <em>
    <span>“accidentally” </span>
  </em>
  <span>brush the older man’s hand with his own. Right as he drew near enough, Finstock shifted and clasped both his hands on his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles swallowed nervously. Desperation was starting to settle in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then how about this? Attempt number three!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles lifted the warm, damp towel off the tray and held it out directly to Finstock. “Here,” he explained, “please use this.” Stiles made an effort to maintain eye contact this time. He swallowed nervously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finstock stared back grimly for a moment then looked away, a clear move of dismissal. Defeated, Stiles rolled the hot towel back up and placed it it back on its dish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously? I’m officially out of options.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stepped away from the table, clutching the tray to his chest. “Excuse me,” he said, announcing his leave and moving toward the exit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s no way for me to help Derek after all.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was just about to round the opposite end of the table when he heard Finstock call out to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey. You.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles turned back to face him curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finstock bent sideways from his seat to grab something off the floor. He held the item out to Stiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a pen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles looked closer. It kind of looked like his pen. He checked his jacket pocket and, sure enough, it was empty. He must have dropped it at some point when he bent over to unload the tray.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is it!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was pretty sure he looked just as elated as he felt. Which, to Finstock, was probably a weird reaction to have over a pen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles rushed toward Finstock and, instead of just plucking the proffered pen out of his grasp, he clasped the older man’s hand in both of his. “Thank you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles concentrated and sure enough, he could hear the man’s thoughts echo through his own head. He raised his gaze to Finstock’s face and his mouth fell open in surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So sorry, I’ll make sure to get that for you immediately!” With his task accomplished, Stiles exited the conference room, ran out the Nemeton offices and down the hall toward the elevators. He needed to get to a convenience store.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was cupcakes. As in the Hostess or Little Debbie kind. Those packaged, overly sweet treats available at just about any gas station in the country.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles watched, leaning against his desk as the president of one of the largest sports supply chains on the west coast took a bite of the cheap snack cake, looking significantly happier than when he first arrived.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> why he was in a mood?” Liam wondered, still lingering near the data entry section and clearly unable to keep the judgement out of his voice. “What kind of adult gets that pissed about dessert anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira looked thoughtful. “Come to think of it, didn’t the guy who used to handle his account buy those things in bulk?,” she wondered out loud. “He didn’t seem like the type to eat them either. I don’t remember a time when the guy wasn’t training for the LA marathon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greenberg groaned, “You should have said something sooner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kira smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam was digging into one of the pastries, which were offered up to the staff since Finstock clearly had no interest in them. “I prefer ba… baum-baumku… this thing,” he shared, referring to what looked like a little dessert that was rolled up and layered to resemble a bundt cake, spraying the area with some crumbs. “It’s good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It does look good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles turned his attention back toward Derek’s meeting. Looked like he managed to turn it around. The werewolf was right in his element, charming as ever. Finstock was all manic energy and smiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles felt accomplished, taking his seat and turning back toward his laptop to resume the task he was working on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finstock’s visit continued with no further incidents. Stiles ended up buying two whole boxes of cupcakes just in case and it looked like Derek also made the right call and offered up the rest of them. Finstock was clutching both boxes to his chest as he was departing, looking supremely pleased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek and McCall ended up walking Finstock out of the office and seeing him safely into an elevator. The man’s visit definitely ended on a good note; he had nothing but praises for their business and even remarked that he was relieved Derek was overseeing his account from that point onward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Satisfied with the role he played, Stiles left his desk to make copies of the document he was working on. He could hear a bustle of movement toward the location of the entrance. It sounded like someone had run back inside in a bit of a hurry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles turned toward the source of his name. Derek was the source of the noise, clearly having hurried in and come to a stop at the end of Stiles’ row. He obviously didn’t find the person he was looking for there. Stiles watched Derek tilt his head upward slightly, clearly sniffing the air then turn and zero in on where he was standing by the copy machine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek had the brightest of smiles on his face as he walked in Stiles’ direction iin a slightly more sedate pace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Finstock left in a really good mood,” Derek said, looking really excited to share this bit of news.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles found himself smiling back. “I see.” He turned back toward the sheets he was collating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He said he was ‘relieved since we remembered his cupcakes.’ Do you know what that means?” Derek continued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles decided he could probably explain around how he came to know that bit of information. “Yeah. It’s kind of a superstition of his.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek raised an eyebrow. “Superstition?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed, busying himself with continuing to sort the pages in his hands. “Apparently, Coach’s stores only started to do well whenever he ate snack cakes during their operations meetings. I guess people who usually dealt with him started making sure to have some on-hand whenever they met.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles gathered the documents he was working into a stack and tapped them against the countertop where they were previously spread out. He turned to face Derek directly and concluded his explanation: “He doesn’t really mention it directly to anyone to see if other companies are willing to do the research and learn about him and his business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I had no idea,” Derek remarked, sounding genuinely in awe. He shifted closer, leaning on the divider that separated the copy machine and office supplies from the rest of the bullpen. “Wait, how did you find out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was distracted by how close Derek was standing. There was a little over a foot of space between them. Stiles didn’t know what to make of this interaction part of their interaction. He figured it was fair to wonder how someone in data entry got a hold of such useful information. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Derek didn’t look distrustful or envious; there was genuine curiosity in his eyes and something else. He was looking at Stiles like he was the greatest thing he’d ever seen. Like he was someone impressive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, um,” Stiles shifted slightly closer to his work, putting some distance between him and Derek. “I’d just heard it around the office.” Technically not a lie. “I just happened to remember it when I brought him his drink.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles peered out of the corner of his eye to gauge Derek’s reaction. He had a small smile playing on his lips; it looked like he took Stiles’ answer at face value. “I see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek straightened up, adjusting his suit jacket nervously. “Well you really saved me in there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles turned to face him again, absently humming in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me treat you to dinner sometime,” Derek offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Stiles shuffled his papers nervously, “Y-you don’t need to do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Stiles,” said Derek, backing out of the copier area and not taking his eyes off Stiles as he made his leave. “You’re pretty badass,” he said simply and flashed one last blinding smile before heading back toward his desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles watched Derek go; the werewolf reached his desk and briefly interacted with his fellow salesmen. The werewolf sagged with relief into his seat and was more than likely regaling the others with what exactly happened during his meeting with the eccentric businessman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a very real possibility for Derek to lose his job over something inconsequential as snack cakes. It wouldn’t have been right to begin with. And it would have been an all around terrible decision for Nemeton to axe their best and most competent salesman. But thankfully that wasn’t the outcome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Stiles had something to do with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Watching Derek, relieved and laughing about the earlier ordeal, it occurred to Stiles that he himself felt a sense of comfort and stability knowing he would continue to work with and see Derek regularly. Stiles didn’t quite know what to make of what that meant yet. It was possible that he was just very comfortable in his routine and Derek had somehow become an important part of that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though Derek didn’t know about Stiles’ powers, he obviously knew the part the human played in saving his meeting. Stiles didn’t need to be touching Derek to know that his gratitude was genuine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Badass,” Stiles repeated, echoing Derek’s parting word. Stiles knew who he was and how he came across to others; it wasn’t exactly the first word most people would use to describe him. But Derek apparently thought he was. What would usually come off as an overused compliment from others sounded like high praise coming from the werewolf.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles felt a sense of giddiness come over him and couldn’t keep the grin off his face no matter how hard he tried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having abandoned his work for the past few minutes, Stiles lifted the scanner lid on the copier machine and ducked down under for some privacy. Once he felt he was clear from prying eyes, Stiles let himself have a little celebratory moment for using his power for a good deed and helping someone he had grown to admire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Stiles, the copier —”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles straightened up with a cough, slamming the flat scanner lid shut. Kira had arrived with some documents and was now looking at him curiously. “I, uh, I’m done with it,” he explained, stepping to the side and giving her access to the copy machine and grabbing his documents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles allowed himself another little private smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Even I am able to help Derek, after all.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac was bent over his laptop in concentration. He had just recently refreshed the browser page he had been staring at since he sat down to work that morning. His latest package from Deaton’s Pet Care had updated its tracking status around early afternoon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He would have left the distribution office six minutes ago. Which means he should be arriving soon.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac straightened up in his seat and breathed deeply. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the books that littered his workstation lately. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How to Grab His Attention In Just One Week</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Golden Ratio of Popularity</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oxford Style Romantic Psychology, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thirteen Rules for Your Romance</span>
  </em>
  <span>, just to name a few.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac fished out a microfiber cloth from a pocket in his cardigan and cleaned his work glasses. He then nervously ran his hands through his hair. He needed to look like he didn’t get up from bed then head straight to his desk and never got up since.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clementine’s content meowing caught Isaac’s attention. He spied her on her cat tree, laying on her back and batting at a fluffy ball hanging from an elastic band. He got an idea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac gently coaxed the cat off her perch while pushing a few other items like her bed out of the way. He lifted the fairly light but obnoxiously big cat tree out of the corner it was in and moved it to the kitchen and dining area where he normally received guests, albeit rarely. He stood by to inspect his work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The past few times the delivery guy came by, he always stopped to scratch Clementine behind her ears whenever she was nearby. Recently, it got to the point that the cat would come trotting out of wherever she was curled up whenever he dropped something off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This should give him a reason to linger a bit longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac’s doorbell rang. He knew it was due just about any second but it still took him by surprise. He stood up straighter and adjusted his scarf and cardigan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>True enough, once he handed Isaac his obligatory delivery, Handsome Delivery Guy was crouched in front of the cat tree nook Clementine had crawled into and began cooing at her adoringly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Clementine, how have you been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac staggered and deliberately turned away. He tightly gripped his kitchen counter for support. He was also aware that he was releasing a very content rumbling noise from his chest that he both hoped and prayed the human’s ears weren’t picking up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The delivery guy was thankfully oblivious, now speaking to Isaac’s cat in a sing-song voice. “Clemmy, Clemmy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac slapped a hand to his chest. Sure enough, his heart was pounding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is bad. My heart rate has been rising ever since he showed up. What is this? Am I excited?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac turned slightly to find Delivery Guy still crouched but now with Clementine nestled in his nice arms. His attention was focused solely on the cat and had not paid Isaac any mind so far. The cat was mewing back, as if she was in conversation with the human.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac felt the hammering of his heart grow even faster, if that was even possible. He couldn’t quite describe the feeling blooming in his chest at the sight of this man with his cat. Isaac lifted his gaze away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac made eye contact with his own reflection on the stainless steel doors of his fridge. He was wearing a dopey smile on his face that quickly slipped off upon his realization.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why is my face so slack?!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac spun away wildly, forgetting he had company for a second. He ran his fingers through his hair wildly, further messing up his bedhead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell are you even smiling about?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Get it together. Act like a competent, functioning werewolf.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac started pounding a fist to his chest, right over where his out of control heart was sheltered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come back to yourself, Isaac Lahey!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ummmm. ‘Scuse me,” piped up an uncertain voice behind Isaac. He turned and, sure enough, the delivery guy was still there, having stood up from his crouch. “Are you in some sort of pain? Should I call an ambulance?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac quickly put a stop to what he was doing. He must have looked pretty deranged. “Umm, no,” he quickly replied, scrambling for an explanation. “I was just, uh… working out my pecs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Great.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” replied Delivery Guy, drawing out the first vowel, obviously not convinced. “Well don’t surprise us like that,” he continued, trying to keep a steady grip on Clementine who was scrambling out of his grip, “You’re scaring the cat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Delivery Guy’s attention was back on Clementine but Isaac nodded dumbly anyway. “Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now wanting this interaction to be over, Isaac grabbed the tablet Delivery Guy handed to him earlier and signed his name as proof of delivery. He handed it back promptly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you go,” Delivery Guy replied, passing Clementine over to Isaac. The werewolf felt his fingers make contact with the human’s as he secured his grip on the cat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t make me worry about you, you idiot.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac released a pathetic-sounding yowl and fell to his knees dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, what the f…? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Delivery Guy dropped to a crouch next to Isaac and hovered his hands over him, just about ready to check for signs of injury.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Isaac set Clementine on her feet gently so she at least could escape this embarrassing situation. Isaac schooled his face into something hopefully less pathetic than his overall state and met Delivery Guy’s eyes. “I-I found some dust on the floor.” Even he wouldn’t buy the excuse he just gave but he had to sell it somehow. He focused his attention on picking at imaginary smudges on his kitchen floor tiles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles smiled to himself, peering into the pastry bag on his desk excitedly for the umpteenth time. He had come into work that morning with the bag waiting for him on his desk. On the white, paper surface was a simple note:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thanks! —Derek</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peering into the bag curiously, Stiles was filled with an unfamiliar warmth when he realized what was inside. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly that was but he was somewhat certain that part of it was delight and hunger even if he had just wolfed down a granola bar on his morning walk from his apartment to the train station.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Inside the bag were a couple of chocolate creme-filled doughnuts. They had a brown frosting and were further topped with a roughly chopped but easily recognizable candy. Stiles swiped some of the filling that leaked out of a pastry to taste and confirm his suspicions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were peanut butter cup doughnuts. Derek knew what his favorite candy was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles checked the time on his laptop. It was the middle of the day and the bullpen was a little quieter since most people were on their lunch break. Stiles’ eyes were drawn to the pastry bag again. He couldn’t wait until his lunch break to enjoy these for dessert.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles glanced across the room briefly to where Derek was seated at his desk, speaking to someone in low tones over his desk headset. Stiles figured they could go to lunch at the same time and they could each have a doughnut to enjoy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles realized he wouldn’t have allowed himself to even consider growing closer to the most well-liked guy at work. But that was weeks ago. Things between them have undeniably changed. Stiles wasn’t sure if he could call it friendship but they were no longer just the workplace acquaintances he thought them to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is it because of my magic power or…?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It occurred to Stiles that Derek was willing to stay content with just being colleagues. Stiles had to accidentally read his thoughts to know he wanted something more. Had things been different, would he have gotten the same chances to be around Derek and gain a better understanding of him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles glanced back across the room. Derek was now off his phone call, having graciously accepted a file from a fellow salesman with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles couldn’t contemplate and second guess things further. Someone grabbed his chair and spun him around without warning. Stiles startled and tilted back in his chair, further freaking himself out. He knew he released a yelp and quickly tried to reorient himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam was gazing down at him eagerly, still gripping the sides of Stiles’ chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You hungry, Stiles?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was dumbfounded, not quite sure what was being asked of him. “Um, huh?” he asked dumbly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re hungry right?” Liam reiterated, leaning closer. Stiles had to tilt his chair back on purpose this time. “Let’s go eat!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looked like Stiles was taking his lunch earlier than usual. Again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After clocking out, Stiles met Liam in the lunchroom, the young werewolf waving him over to a mostly empty table, save for himself and a couple of bags.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as Stiles sat down, Liam grabbed the plastic bag on the tabletop and began to unbag its contents. He placed a large styrofoam container in front of Stiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” Liam stated with his offering, “A regular-size Hawaiian Barbecue. Chicken katsu.” The werewolf took a seat and unpacked his own meal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles could have gone another hour before feeling hungry but was instantly ravenous when he opened the container and warm, delicious-smelling steam wafted up from the hot food inside. A couple large, fried, breaded chicken cutlets were cut into strips on a bed of steamed cabbage. There was a healthy serving of rice and some macaroni salad. Stiles turned his attention back toward Liam when the werewolf placed a couple containers of katsu sauce in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” said Stiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I ended up taking my lunch with Liam. There’s no harm in that, I guess.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Liam had his food all laid out in front of him, the same exact meal as Stiles, he handed the human a pair of plastic utensils. “Let’s dig in,” Liam didn’t wait for a response, he dipped a slice of chicken into the tangy, brown sauce and ate it whole, humming with delight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles grabbed his fork and knife but kept his attention on Liam. “Did you, uh, want to talk to me about something?” he ventured a guess, uncertain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lam looked confused, making a curious noise as he finished chewing his mouthful of food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles gestured down at his meal, stabbing a smaller slice of chicken with his fork. “I mean, you kind of bought me lunch out of nowhere. It’s a lot of food too.” Stiles could probably eat half of this and set the rest aside and just reheat it for dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s to thank you for the other day,” Liam explained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles tried and failed to recall what Liam had to thank him for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Remember that time we went out drinking after I got that contract?” Liam clarified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. That time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles recalled his conversation with Liam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“My stomach’s not doing too great and I wanted to go grab something to help it settle. Is there like a pharmacy or convenience store nearby?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam dropped his utensils and scooted his seat closer to Stiles, dropping his voice to hushed tones so no one else would hear. “You did that for me, didn’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles didn’t know what Liam was getting at but he tried to play things cool. “What?” he asked innocently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I figured it out after what happened with President Finstock,” Liam explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Both times Stiles used his… </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, that can’t be what this is about.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam stood from his seat, hand on his chin, elbow braced in his other hand, and walked toward the nearby windows overlooking the rest of Downtown LA. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles, you instantly determined what Finstock wanted and bought him some snack cakes,” Liam launched into his explanation, like a little werewolf Sherlock Holmes. He quickly pivoted and fixed his stare on the human. “That day too…” he paused, as if recalling those events as Stiles himself was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Everyone’s clothes </span>
  </em>
  <span>reek</span>
  <em>
    <span> of cigarette smoke.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Gross… I </span>
  </em>
  <span>really</span>
  <em>
    <span> don’t want to go back in there.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam started to pace, monologuing on what was turning out to be an accurate description of what happened that day over two weeks before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You knew I wanted to get some fresh air and had me—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had to put a stop to this. “You’re overthinking it,” he cut in abruptly, panic starting to set in. “It was clearly a coincidence,” he concluded, trying to shrug nonchalantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to hide it,” Liam replied simply, sinking back into his seat. “I’ve already figured it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles swallowed around the lump in his throat, he was sure the look on his face was all the tell Liam would need. “‘Figured it out’?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam nodded, “Yes.” He leaned forward dramatically, “Stiles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles squirmed in his seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>C-could it be? Does he know about my power?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“…are a really attentive and considerate person,” Liam declared dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles felt his face go slack. “Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can casually pick up on people’s feelings and anticipate what they want,” Liam continued to explain. “You’re pretty awesome.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles sagged back into his seat in relief. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I almost panicked and gave myself away.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s no big deal,” Stiles replied, more than willing to run with Liam’s version of things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam shook his head rapidly, “No way, not everyone can do that. He slid his chair back and sat up straighter, “Starting today, I’m going to try to learn from you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam abruptly stood and clasped his hands together in a pleading motion. He put on his best puppy-dog eyes and pleaded, “Please teach me what you know!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles smiled at the younger man’s antics. “You’re overreacting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam shook his head rapidly, eyes shining. “I really respect and admire you, Stiles.” He quickly grabbed the reusable bag that was still on the table and started unpacking that too. It was full of snacks that were probably from the Taiwanese grocer nearby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please take these,” Liam eagerly exclaimed as he continued to empty the contents of the bag on their table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. He tried to get Liam to stop plying him with snack foods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please have this too,” Liam placed a familiar bottle of pink liquid in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles found himself laughing harder, “I don’t need any stomach medicine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just really respect you a lot,” Liam continued, punctuating each word by placing a new item on the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles meekly smiled to himself. He knew he wasn’t as perceptive as Liam thought he was. But he did like knowing he could help people if it was within his ability to do so. His power was clearly helping him do just that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Liam continued to sing Stiles’ praises throughout the rest of their meal together. Stiles never did give him a straight answer on if he would be willing to take Liam under his wing. While he didn’t want to be put in the position of accidentally revealing his strange ability, Stiles didn’t really have the heart to shoot the guy down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stayed a little later than usual wrapping up a spreadsheet he was close to finishing anyway. While waiting for a lift to arrive and take him down to the lobby, he stared out the wall of windows opposite the elevator bay at the other buildings illuminated against the LA skyline. His view was slightly obscured due to the rain that started to come down in that early evening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t really think I could influence anyone or be someone’s role model. But this is a pretty amazing feeling.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a similar sensation to what Stiles has previously felt after hearing Derek’s thoughts on multiple occasions. Derek’s gratitude from the previous day was fulfilling. But it was also pretty special when other people recognized his efforts too. He stared down at his hands, not quite feeling any magic thrumming through him but knowing it was definitely there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And it’s all because of this.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That may have been somewhat of an oversimplification. Stiles knew with absolute certainty that there was another contributing factor to his newfound resolve and initiative to take control of this new power.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But the main reason I found the resolve to do this…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“In all the time I’ve lived in this city, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as patient or as kind or as decent as Stiles.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m so glad to be of use to him.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“But I at least want to be around to help Stiles.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was still very much intimidated about the depths Derek’s feelings for him ran. But he couldn’t deny their impact on his life. Stiles generally meant well and kept his head down. But Derek’s high regard and admiration for him was inspiring. It made Stiles want to be the type of person worthy of that praise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>… is because of the way Derek feels about me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Due to the rain outside, Stiles knew his commute home was going to be unpleasant. He didn’t bother to check his weather app that morning so him having to walk some through the rain without an umbrella or rain slicker was somewhat on him. At the very least Stiles knew he could leave the building through the service entrance at the side of the building. That would afford him a somewhat shorter and more direct path to the underground rail station where he can at least get some shelter from the cold and wet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stood just on the edge of where the building overhang still provided him some cover from the barrage of fat droplets that had yet to let up. He figured the sooner he braved the rain and ran through the parts he usually walked, he could get home and out of his soon to be wet clothes sooner rather than later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bracing himself for the unpleasant sensation, Stiles took a few steps forward, the cold droplets quickly seeping through his hair and settling on his scalp. He stopped in his tracks when he heard his name being called. He turned to face the new arrival.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam wasn’t too far behind him, jogging his way toward Stiles all while unraveling his umbrella.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s walk to your station together,” Liam said, lifting his now open umbrella over both of them. “You’re gonna get wet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Stiles didn’t usually run into Liam on his return commute, he didn’t know if the young werewolf was even heading in the same direction. “I can just make a run for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No way!” Liam exclaimed, “I’m not leaving someone I look up to out in the rain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles’ face felt warm despite the chilly air. “What does that even mean?” he replied bashfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just wait a second!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of an unfamiliar, feminine voice drew the attention of both men. From where they stood, they could easily see into the front courtyard of their building. There, a pair of figures stood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One was a woman, most likely the source of the voice. She was dressed stylishly in weather appropriate garb. She was bundled up in a khaki-colored trench coat, blue jeans, and brown leather knee-high boots. She held a bright red umbrella over here flowing dark locks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t I just stay at your place today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other person, the man, was instantly recognizable to Stiles. Thick, black hair. Immaculately pressed suit, even at the end of a workday. Broad shoulders. He held a dark blue umbrella over his own perfectly-styled head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go see if </span>
  <em>
    <span>your boyfriend</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Stiles could hear Derek stress those words irritably, “will let you stay over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek?” Liam said softly in recognition, confirming what Stiles already knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Things are over between us!” the woman explained desperately, almost pleading. “I’m not seeing him anymore!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek was clearly rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, lolling his head back and expressing his frustration nonverbally.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just for tonight,” the woman bargained, before continuing in a softer voice, “Please, Derek?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s his ex-girlfriend,” Liam commented as he and Stiles continued to stare on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles felt something unfamiliar in his gut. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Liam glanced at Stiles before continuing, “I think I’ve seen Derek with that woman before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles was no longer paying attention to what Derek and the woman were saying, his mouth felt dry as he listened to Liam continue to explain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s definitely his ex.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek turned away from the woman and walked away purposefully. The woman continued to follow him and he didn’t make any moves to stop her. Looked like he was letting her stay over after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re both really good looking. They make a nice couple,” Liam concluded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles wasn’t sure why he felt like the other shoe had just dropped. He couldn’t quite explain that feeling because it wasn’t like there was a first shoe to begin with. All he knew was he really just wanted to be alone. “You’re right,” he replied simply. “Well, have a safe night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ignoring Liam’s calls and shouts, Stiles left the safety of the werewolf’s umbrella and trudged on. Each new droplet of rain soaked into his work clothes. But Stiles already felt burdened and heavy well before he was properly soaked through. He noticed that his teeth began chattering so he grit them together tightly and pressed on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“One night. Got it?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek exited back into his living room after his shower. The curtains were drawn to show off the inky black rainy night that took over the LA skyline. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of lamps and candles. A slow, smooth tune drifted softly from his TV.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek’s guest had made herself comfortable on his couch. Gentlemanly as he was, he allowed her to have the first bath. She had clearly been busy making herself at home while he took his turn. And helped herself to some of his red wine. There was also a glass waiting for him on his coffee table.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thanks Derek,” his ex-girlfriend simpered from her spot, “You’re the sweetest.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek made his way over and grabbed his glass, raising it to his lips and inhaling before taking a small sip.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“After all,” his ex continued, “that’s what I love most about you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek took the seat opposite hers on the couch. He was clad in some dark, silk sleep pants and a patterned bathrobe. He pensively swirled the drink in its container.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you know what that means?” Derek replied in a low rumble, gazing intensely at his companion.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The woman deliberately set her drink down and fluidly lifted both her legs to settle across Derek’s lap. She leaned forward toward him, giving him every chance to pull away. “‘Of course,” she breathed.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek continued to meet his ex’s gaze and lifted a hand, running it through the soft strands of her hair. He leaned forward, moving his hand to her cheek to guide her closer as well…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!” Stiles screamed himself awake, shooting up into a seated position and flailing wildly on his twin bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took stock of the meager space of his studio apartment. It was the same kitchenette and same tiny living room area. Daylight was pouring in through the window next to his bed. On the other side of said window was his desk, his art supplies still littered on the surface from his last burst of creativity. Next to it was his shelf full of manga and comic books.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles had made it home after getting off his train and walked the rest of the way back. He vaguely remembered dropping each piece of his soaking wet clothes on his floor as he made his way into his apartment. He had toweled off and threw on a threadbare shirt and some boxers. He didn’t really have the energy to make or order dinner so he just curled up in bed and mindlessly scrolled through his phone. He didn’t even remember properly dozing off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles breathed heavily, willing himself to calm down. “It was just a dream,” he said to himself, both in realization and relief. He tried to recall any flashes of his dream from the previous night. But the more he sat there, the more futile his attempts at piecing it all together became.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite this, Stiles did know he had Derek and his ex running through his brain last night. While he wasn’t quite sure what his cold, miserable, and tired brain had cooked up, he did know that the idea of Derek and that woman together was something he did not want to dwell on and yet could not stop thinking about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles rubbed his hands together and over his chilly forearms. “It’s cold,” he told himself and lay back down, pulling his duvet out from under his body and properly bundling up. He checked his phone. He had some time before he had to get ready for work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough, it was time for Stiles to get ready for another full day at the office. He had changed into a presentable set of work attire, picked up the still soggy clothes from the previous night still littered around his apartment, and left his house, taking his usual route he now knew like the back of his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles reached his stop with some time to spare and queued up at the food truck that frequented that area. He sneezed into the crook of his elbow and shivered in the cold late fall air. Despite the full night’s sleep, Stiles was still feeling somewhat sluggish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he waited in line, Stiles once again thought back to the previous night. To Derek and his companion. Stiles closed his eyes and tried to bring up the woman’s face in his mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Derek’s ex was beautiful.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was the simple truth Stiles had observed. She clearly took great care of herself and had a timeless sense of style. Her hair was dark and she wore it down so it was effortlessly flowing. From where Stiles was standing and through the haze of rain, he could have sworn she wore a bright candy-apple red shade on her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles reached the front of the line and selected a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches. He spotted a selection of energy drinks chilling in some ice nearby. He grabbed one, placed his items on the counter, and waited for his total.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It makes a lot more sense for someone like her to be with him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sight of Derek and that woman walking away together was a dose of reality that was colder than the downpour that drenched him on his walk home. Derek’s feelings for Stiles almost seemed like an anomaly, like a fluke. Especially with the reminder that there are people out there like her whom Derek could easily have. Whom he’s more than likely already had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles continued to get lost in the tangle of his own thoughts through his commute and his tasks upon arriving at the office. He took it upon himself to add a few more reams of paper into the copier in an effort to keep himself occupied and busy. He set the paper box aside and allowed himself a few minutes in a nearby nook to take a deep breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Which means Derek and I are better off as just colleagues.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t quite sure what he was so worked up about. Aside from now considering the werewolf as something like a friend, their relationship was essentially the same. Nothing fundamental has changed between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles peeked out of his corner and easily spotted Derek making his way to the nearby water cooler and coffee station. The werewolf looked well put together as always, busying himself with preparing a cup of coffee. If he simply looked up, he would easily spot Stiles poking his head out of his slightly obscured spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles considered making the approach and attempting conversation until Liam arrived, asking Derek to look over a proposal he was working on. Ultimately, his chance came and went. Both werewolves made their way back to their desks without spotting him. Derek showered Liam with praise during their short walk back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah. This is for the best.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles left his corner and trudged back to his desk. He had stashed his sandwiches in the office fridge upon arrival but kept the energy drink on his desk. He still felt like he would need it to get through the day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles pulled the tab to open the can and took a large swig. He took his seat, buckling down for the long haul to get some work done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒 - 🍒</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough. Stiles was feeling extremely unproductive and had slumped down onto his desk for the last ten minutes of work. Five cans of energy drinks spread through the day later and he still wasn’t feeling any better. If anything, he just added jitters and a pounding headache to his complete lack of energy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I feel terrible. I’m heading home.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles stood, noting that his legs felt like lead and there was an ache in his knees that definitely was not there before. He stuffed his belongings into his bag, grabbed his empty cans and dumped them into a recycling bin and made his way toward the exit, bidding some people farewell on his way out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles spotted Derek wrapping up a conversation with Nathan by the doors. It appeared the latter was on his way out too since he made his exit right after he and the werewolf exchanged a quick, friendly handshake. Derek had his eyes glued to some documents in his hands as he began walking back toward his desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have a good night,” Stiles called out. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and it was a little difficult to talk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good—” Derek replied automatically but stopped when he realized it was Stiles. Derek stopped moving and turned to face the human properly. “Hey, let me buy you dinner for…” He trailed off, halting his invitation after having taken a good look at Stiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek’s face grew serious, his voice laced with concern. “Are you feeling okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles nodded minutely, not sure if Derek picked up the simple motion. Stiles wanted nothing more than to make his way back home and crawl back into bed. “Just in a hurry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles wasn’t trying to be rude but the longer he stood there, the worse he felt and the more their office became the last place he wanted to be in. Stiles made his exit, leaving Derek staring after him and took an elevator down. He wedged himself into a corner of the lift; he knew that he was definitely sick and didn’t want to give anyone else what he had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles waited until everyone else had stepped off before trudging out of the elevator as well. As he made his way to the exit, it felt like a tiny bit of his energy was being drained away with each step he took.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is for the best. We’re just colleagues.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The human stopped in his tracks after hearing Derek’s all too familiar voice. It clearly didn’t take much time or effort for the werewolf to catch up to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me drop you off at your place,” Derek offered seriously. “You’re sick, right? I didn’t drive here today but I can call a Lyft and —”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” Stiles interrupted abruptly, starting to feel unsteady on his feet. He could feel Derek’s eyes boring into him but couldn’t find the courage or strength to make direct eye contact. “I can make it by myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek’s brow furrowed, he looked a bit frustrated but sounded more worried than anything else. “What if you collapse? Don’t push yourself —”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not!” Stiles replied, tired of the conversation he was stuck in and just physically tired in general. He didn’t mean to raise his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you angry?” Derek inquired. He spoke gently, clearly confused but likely under the impression that Stiles could just keel over any second. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not angry,” Stiles explained, doing a better job of keeping his voice steady this time but he was pretty sure his heartbeat was an obvious tell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why </span>
  </em>
  <span>am</span>
  <em>
    <span> I mad?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles finally turned to face Derek. The werewolf looked tense, as if expecting Stiles to lash out at him. Stiles attempted what he hoped looked like a comforting smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine. Really.” Stiles hoped that would be the end of it. Then he could finally head home and put an end to this miserable day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles made it one step when he felt his knees buckle. He started feeling light-headed and dizzy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he started pitching over sideways. Maybe Derek was on to something after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next thing Stiles knew he was opening his eyes, consciousness slowly returning to him. The first thing he saw was Derek’s stern face, concern and worry just barely under the surface. Stiles didn’t know how long he was passed out but he slowly realized that his feet weren’t even touching the ground. Derek had scooped him up and was holding him close in a bridal carry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not,” Derek insisted. “You’re not fine at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles slumped in Derek’s secure grasp. He leaned his forehead against the werewolf’s shoulder in defeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek couldn’t hold Stiles and pull up a rideshare app on his phone at the same time so he walked them back toward the entrance of the building and set the human down on a nearby bench. Once their car arrived, Derek looked like he was about to grab Stiles and carry him over but the human was quick to scramble to his feet, assuring his companion that he could make the short walk from the courtyard to their car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek insisted on carrying both his own and Stiles’ bags and lingered closely as he and Stiles went to go meet their driver. Derek opened the door to the backseat and saw to it that Stiles was seated securely before getting in himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as Stiles was safely buckled in, he slumped down into his seat silently. He already gave Derek his address while the werewolf was requesting their ride so Stiles left him to exchange pleasantries with their driver.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I finally figured out why my head’s been a mess since I saw Derek with his ex.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek didn’t have to let Stiles stay over on that late night several weeks before. He didn’t have to cook him breakfast the following morning either. He didn’t have to let Greenberg know that he admired Stiles’ work ethic. He didn’t have to prevent Stiles from getting hit or clean and bandage his wound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Derek certainly wasn’t obligated to see Stiles home safely, especially when that would take him far out of the way from getting himself home. But Derek did all those. And Derek was doing this. Because he valued Stiles’ comfort and he especially valued his safety.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I was… I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am</span>
  <em>
    <span> scared that Derek’s feelings may someday change.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles slumped further to the side and leaned his head against the window. He didn’t stay that way for too long; he was distracted from his breakthrough and feverish thoughts when the door on his side opened. He would have tumbled right out of his seat if he wasn’t already belted in. He and Derek were already in the car so he looked up to see who the new arrival was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the woman Derek was with the night before. She crouched down and leveled the werewolf with an exasperated look. “I finally found you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His ex?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Derek asked, sounding very exasperated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You weren’t answering your phone, so I waited here for you to come out,” The woman simply replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles cast his gaze over to Derek who was now properly glowering. Stiles felt out of place. And lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Huh?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman turned her attention to Stiles and smiled at him softly. “Move over a bit?” She moved to step into the vehicle without really waiting for Stiles to reply so he felt no other choice but to comply and move over, now seated in the middle, sandwiched between her and Derek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! Why are you getting in?” Derek protested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it,” the woman replied nonchalantly. She turned her attention toward the driver, “Go ahead and drive please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles honestly just wanted to go home. Didn’t seem like that was happening anytime soon though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is this real? Am I now stuck in the middle of some lovers’ quarrel?</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I think this is the chapter I took the longest on. It took excruciatingly long to put to paper (figuratively) and I kept having to pause and walk away when I went through again for my rewrite.</p>
<p>Here’s hoping I can get Chapter 6 to you guys within an actual week this time.</p>
<p>As always, I am always interested to know what you all think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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